


The Spaces In Between

by stellacadente



Series: Dreams of Empire [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Not as dark as the tags make it seem, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Sexual slavery mention only, Suicide Discussion -- brief, Unconventional Format, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 81
Words: 198,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellacadente/pseuds/stellacadente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Star Wars: The Old Republic MMORPG. Xhareen, a Miralukan Sith warrior, navigates the path from obscurity to the heights of power as she also learns to lead and to love. An interpretation of the canon Sith Warrior story from Corellia to Ziost, with flashbacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Begins With a Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On board the Class A Starship Yaroe Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This is a completely new chapter 1; the old first chapter now appears in chronological order. I hope this change clears up some confusion and makes the story more approachable.]

Ruin. Everything lay in ruin.

Xhareen Nah-garesh watched as the body of her captain floated in the kolto tank. The medtech, an enlisted woman with a Ziost accent, worked to seal the tank and get the regeneration process started. Her apparent skill came as a relief, since the ship didn’t have a doctor on board.

“We’re just a transport vessel, m’lord,” she said. “Hard to keep real docs around at this pay.”

Xhareen knew she had to do something but she wasn’t sure what. They were still nearly a day from Corellia at this ship’s speed, but she still needed to come up with something fast.

“Malavai,” she whispered. _You promised me we would share our legacy. But this is what you gave me instead._

“One of your own works to betray you.” That’s what Madaga-Ru told her as they left Voss. She never even considered he meant Quinn or anyone on her crew. She thought “your own” meant another Sith. Certainly Baras, but he was already working on that. Voss supposedly only had visions of the future.

Darth Malgus, perhaps? He’d been eager to have her do off-the-books assignments for him while she was in hiding. Maybe he needed to close those books now. Darth Serevin? Even more likely. He’d been cagey and strange the whole time on Voss. He’d speak ill of the Voss as dirty aliens in one moment, but she was certain she’d caught him kissing one of them when he thought no one was looking.

But not anyone in her crew, and certainly not her captain. Her lover, her confidante, her husband. The man who promised her a family.

She forced herself to sit up straight, emotionless, like she owned this vessel. She didn’t want anyone to know the depths of her shame. She’d already spent an hour negotiating with the captain, practically begging, promising to pay for repairs for the damage done to his ship and to owe him a favor. He finally relented when she showed him a credstik from one of the Hutt’s largest private banks. He accepted with a relieved smile.

All she wanted to do after that was make sure Quinn was still alive. So she came here to haunt the ship’s doctor, only to find the lone medtech instead.

After a few minutes, the sensors on the tank flashed green. Quinn was masked and leads ran all over his body. The medtech sighed. She, too, knew the risks of angering a Sith.

Just when Xhareen thought the hypnotic movements of Quinn’s nearly naked body bobbing up and down would drive her mad with rage, she got an idea.

“Corporal, I charge you with keeping this man alive or risk my displeasure. I’m going to the bridge. Call me immediately if anything changes.”

“Yes, m’lord,” she said, and turned back to the machine.

A plan was forming. Not a new one. She had been working for months to find someone, and he would certainly know how to save Quinn. If for no other reason, keep him alive long enough to answer the only question she needed to ask. Maybe she’d kill him after, if she didn’t like the answer. It had seemed like that was what he wanted, anyway, after all those things he’d said. He seemed as surprised as she was that she simply could not do it.

His angry taunts still rang in her ears. Insulting the Emperor, exalting Baras. Calling her weak.

She looked back one last time at the tank before exiting the room.

_Malavai Quinn, you will answer for what you have done. For what you have done to me._

 


	2. They meet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _How it all started._

**Balmorra, eleven months earlier …**

 

Vette wrinkled her nose the second she and Xhareen exited the Balmorra spaceport.

“Eww, you ever been to Ylesia Prime?”

“Is that a backhanded way to get information about my past out of me?” Xhareen poked her Twi'lek companion on the upper arm, to reassure her she was joking. Although whether it was coincidence or Vette had uncovered something substantial, Xhareen wasn't sure. Vette had proven herself wily and invaluable since leaving Korriban; only the Maker knew what she'd gotten up to on her off hours or during the flight here from Dromund Kaas.

“That would be an awkward 'No,' my Sithy friend. I was going for ‘this place stinks the same as the port there.’ ”

Xhareen knew that smell, although for her, for several years that smell meant home. She'd flown out of the Prime city port many times; maybe it was just excitement and relief that had colored her senses with the unmistakable mix of fuel and spice and sex and dozens of alien food shops.

This place just smelled of death, fuel and bombs. But she had work to do, and masters to please.

And a lieutenant to meet.

“The sooner we get to our contact’s office, the sooner you can escape the smells, Vette.” Xhareen had checked her data pad a half dozen times since landing and still it said the same thing: Lt. Malavai Quinn, Logistics, Materiel and Resource Planning coordinator, Sobrik City. Building Aurek 2, Sector 7.

Seemed like an important job for a lowly lieutenant, even one with Baras’s backing. There were two majors in charge of logistics just at Kaas City spaceport alone. Not that this rock compared to the capital world, but still. This one probably had good connections.  _Someone’s golden boy_ , she thought.  _Probably let everyone else do the work for him_ .

Xhareen decided she already didn’t like him.

She looked over at Vette, whose left lekku began to twitch. “I know something,” she half said, half sang.

Xhareen raised her eyebrows above the plasteel visor that covered the upper part of her eyeless face.

“Yeah, while you were pigging out, I was checking out this contact of ours on the holonet.”

Vette wasn’t going to just give up information – at least that’s how things had been between them so far. “OK, what do I have to do to get the information from you?”

“Just ask?”

 “Really, that would work?” Xhareen was truly shocked.

“Yeah, well in this case, it’s something so potentially juicy, I have to share it with you. Apparently, he pissed off some moff, who is not at all well-liked, who busted him and court-martialed him. Don’t know why. Something to do with a big space battle. That’s all I could find, and it was on some pretty shady channels. You know, hackers who like to court death by borrowing access to military secrets and all.”

Xhareen found Vette’s story hard to believe. Maybe that’s why she was so willing to share. She’d made the whole thing up out of boredom. Why would Baras rely on someone with a notorious past as a troublemaker? He preferred secrecy, especially in his non-Sith contacts. Hells, that’s why Xhareen was here, to track down one of Baras’ spies buried so deeply in the Republic army, Baras could not locate him from the Citadel.

Then again, this Lieutenant Quinn could be just some functionary, and not really an “agent” of her master. Baras had an overbearing sense of his own importance. He probably thought the luggage porter at the space dock was his own personal agent, too. Like that unfortunate creature who met them on Dromund Kaas.

_OK_ , she thought. _Maybe I’ll give this Imperial a second chance_.

 

~~~

 

Lieutenant Quinn tossed the holocomm on his desk in disgust. _Jillins again_. He had to deal with the matter before Darth Baras’s apprentice showed up. He needed to make a good impression, because he’d need Baras’s approval if his final shot at getting off Balmorra and out of exile were to happen. Didn’t do him much good if he had to explain why he allowed cowards in his command, even if that coward was his second cousin once removed.

_My command_ , Quinn thought, picking up the holocomm and slamming it down on the desk again. Fifteen years of his life given to the military, saved tens of thousands of lives at Druckenwell, kept this cesspit of an operation out of resistance hands for 10 grueling years, and all he had to show for it was a single bar on his collar. All his planning, all his analyses, everything he could possibly contribute for the Empire, all of it wasted. Every request for transfer denied. Every application for promotion binned.

Days like this, he thought his mother perfectly justified in disowning him after his court martial. He never should have taken the deal. He thought his silence would buy him good will, instead, it made him look guilty. Incompetent and guilty, even worse. He thought he’d spend a few months, a year at most, at some remote outpost like Hoth, then be welcomed back. Instead, he’d been dumped into a black hole prison site and told he was going to be executed. Darth Baras had genuinely saved his life.

But for this?

He slammed his fist on the desk, grateful for the privacy of his spacious suite that served as private office and his quarters. He didn’t like such displays of emotion, especially from himself, but Jillins was gaining a reputation as “the cock-up corporal,” and it had been Quinn who recommended his first promotion. Quinn who had personally trained him in firearms competency.

And now, with the lives of his squad mates on the line, Jillins had been unable to pull the trigger on a terrorist resistance fighter running toward them, as it turned out, with a live grenade. As always, it had been Sgt. Drix'el who covered for him, took the man down with a single shot.

A light on the desk flashed, summoning him to the command floor. He could have dealt with Jillins in private, but decided against it. The rest of the men needed to see he held no favorites.

Jillins was already waiting, shaking and nearly sobbing. “Report, Corporal. Tell me why we are having this conversation again.” Quinn tried to keep his voice steady, but that wasn’t likely to happen.

“I … I couldn’t pull the trigger, sir.”

“Why not, soldier? Did you forget how? Did you forget all the hours I spent tutoring you on how to use your weapon?”

“No, sir, not at all. It’s different when you’re pointing at a simulator, or an animal carcass. I can’t …”

“You can’t shoot an enemy. One who was coming to wipe you and your entire squad from the galaxy.”

Jillins looked down at his boots.

“It’s your job, Jillins. To shoot the enemies of the Empire. To keep your comrades safe, like you’d keep your family safe.

“Sir, I apologize, sir. It was the best I could do.”

Quinn grabbed him by the collar and got right up into his face. Politeness, propriety, all that was garbage if you couldn’t do your job. He knew his anger was getting the better of him but for this moment, it was called for.

“If that’s your best, you’re useless to me. I can shoot you dead with a clear conscience. Is that what you want?”

“N-no, sir.”

He pushed the boy away. He wanted to put him in the brig but he needed every hand he had. For now, he’d let him stew for a few hours, then send orders for three weeks of double cleaning duty shifts. That’s what amounted to punishment for cowardice nowadays, whereas bravery and fast thinking that saved the Fleet had gotten him three months in solitary. He wasn’t sure who he was more disgusted with, Jillins, or his younger self.

“Then focus, Jillins. Dismissed.”

Just then, the room seemed to brighten into a lighter shade of gray and the temperature rose a dozen degrees. Quinn saw he was being stared at, by a brown-skinned humanoid woman wearing a cybernetic visor, and a blue-skinned Twi’lek not wearing a collar.  _Stars, she probably talked as much as Drix’el did._ He was a highly competent officer, and as a Twi’lek, able to blend in with the locals when necessary, but his incessant need to “keep you company, loo” drove Quinn mad sometimes.

But this Twi’lek was quiet and walked a circumspect distance behind the Sith, who held her head high as she strode across the situation room. A young woman, yet she radiated power. Quinn prided himself on his ability to read people, even if he felt awkward moving on from that point. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to make the connection that this was, indeed, Darth Baras’s apprentice. Baras generally favored male apprentices, and the ones he’d sent here previously had all been rather blunt and brutish.

But enough dawdling. Quinn recovered quickly. There was no doubt this was a special person, of that he was convinced. But she was Baras’s person. His apprentice. She was here because she had a job to do.

_As do I_ , Quinn thought. No matter what his intentions were for getting off this planet, he would do his job.  _Service is its own reward._

He bowed as she walked up to him.

“I apologize for the delay, my lord. Lt. Malavai Quinn. I’m to be your liaison here on Balmorra.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed, the timeline is not a line. Each chapter title or heading should make it clear when/where they are.


	3. Getting to Safety

**On board the Class A starship _Yaroe Star_**

Xhareen dragged Quinn’s body out of the transponder bay, calling on whatever reserve of the Force she had left to pull him as quickly as she could. The droids Quinn had set to attack her were going to explode. She had seen the counter on a detonite pack after she cut through one of them with her lightsaber. She knew it would be seconds before the explosion vented the compartment into space. 

She heard the bay doors swoosh closed, and saw a small contingent of soldiers who looked barely old enough to handle a weapon running toward her. She dropped Quinn as gently as she could onto the deck, took a deep breath, and seized the situation as best she could. 

“Stop where you are. Get a grav bed and get this man to a kolto tank immediately, then take me to your captain.” 

The soldiers looked relieved not to be shredded into ribbons, and a female corporal got on her comm and called to the medical staff, just before a muffled explosion, followed by a loud alarm, nearly knocked them all down. 

Quinn began to moan at her feet, his eyes fluttering but not really opening. Xhareen knelt down next to him. 

“My lord?” he whispered, more of a wheeze. 

“Shush, Quinn. You’re wounded,” she said quietly, as she heard many sets of feet start scurrying through the corridors. “The droids attacked us. Baras set us up. You tried to defend me, but you were wounded. Do you understand?”

“No, not what happen- ...”

“Quinn,” she said more sternly. “That is precisely what happened and that is the story you will tell. Are we clear?”

“It’s a lie, my love. All a lie,” he said, but then he fell unconscious and did not wake up.

 

**on the bridge a few minutes later**

 

“Calling Cipher Twenty Three. Security code 8721 mark 3. This is a medical distress call from the Yaroe Star. ”

Xhareen pounded the recall key and sent the message again. And again. She had to be out there, her old friend. She knew the channel was dated, now that Imperial Intelligence had been disbanded, but she doubted the Empire had had time to retrofit the receivers on all the ships formerly under Intelligence service control.

It had taken her precious hours to get here after promising the Yaroe Star’s captain any future favor he wanted. Precious hours that Quinn needed medical help. These were the most secure channels, those accessible only by Sith and only to Intelligence properties. It had to work, it just had to. She would find Zavaa, or whatever her name might be now.

There had been only one aging kolto tank on board the Class A starship they invaded to find the nonexistent transponder. She had commandeered it, and hyperspace transport, from the captain, who was only too eager to avoid the wrath of a Sith – and to incur a favor to call in at some future point. Fortunately, the hull breach was not so serious as to cripple the ship. Xhareen promised some credits from her own accounts to compensate the captain further.

Because what did they matter now? 

The love of her life, a man she had just tried to kill for betraying her, floated inside an inferior cylinder of fluid, his life ebbing and flowing with every bobble up and down the tank. She had ordered him to stay alive and maybe, just maybe, that’s what kept the readings in the green.

Now that they had reached Corellian space and were closing in on the Imperial fleet, she had to make a painful decision. Should she head for the fleet, and turn him over to military doctors, who might question her cover story? But who might also mean the difference between life and death for her beloved, traitorous captain. 

Or should she continue to search for her friend, and the brilliant if sketchy doctor who could save Quinn and not ask too many questions?

“This is the Phantom, an independent Imperial vessel attached to Military Command on Corellia. Please identify yourself.” A computerized voice, female, unnervingly soft and yet metallic.

“Did you say Corellia?” Xhareen could hardly believe her ears. A stroke of luck at last. “This is Lord Xhareen, The Emperor’s Wrath, Sith military advisor. I need to speak to your captain immediately.”

“Yes. Complying,” came the reply, and then an interminable wait.

“This is … Xhareen! It’s you! Or must I call you Lord Xhareen?” The green eyes, the tattooed mask, the high and tight hair. Indeed, a good sign.

“My old friend, I cannot go into pleasantries right now. The captain of my ship has been gravely injured, and I traced a Doctor Lokin to your crew. Please, I am desperate for his assistance.”

“Right away, let me page him.”

The holo went to static momentarily, then her friend returned, accompanied by an older man, balding and white haired but whose body and frame looked like they belonged to an agent 30 years younger at least. The infamous researcher on alien biology, Eckard Lokin.

“Hello, my lord, the Agent here says you have a medical emergency. How may I assist?”

“Doctor, my captain was wounded in a fight. His chest and larynx were crushed, and he probably has a concussion. His extremities are not responding to stimulation. He’s been in a kolto tank for nearly 20 hours. His readings are fluctuating. Please, he must be saved.”

Funny how clinical it sounded. All those wounds, she had inflicted. All those wounds she would blame on another. But that reckoning could come later. Doctor Lokin was known for his discretion; his medical curiosity and love of credits more than covering his need to judge how the wounded came to be that way. 

Xhareen had done her homework. Eckard Lokin had been, in some way, responsible for developing her cybernetic visor and she’d been tracking him down since right after Baras granted her the _Covenant_ and all its resources. None of that mattered now; nothing mattered except saving Quinn. 

“Where are you now? Can you get to us within two hours?”

“Yes, fortunately we just arrived at Corellia and your factotum droid said you were attached to the Corellian front.”

She could hear her friend snort with laughter. She must remember to ask and soon what her cover name was. “Did I say something funny?” She tried not to sound cross.

“No, my lord,” the doctor replied. “Communications systems are being handled by an advanced cybernetic life form who might resent the demotion. But she will send you our coordinates. I will meet you in the airlock. Do you have a grav unit to handle the tank?”

“Yes, we do. I’ll meet you there.” She would tell Zavaa the truth, but the crew must only ever know the cover story, that the droids Quinn had programmed to kill her had been turned on the both of them by their former master, the treasonous Darth Baras. That story would just have to hold. No one else on the crew must know. Lt. Pierce would kill him, Broonmark would kill him, even Vette might turn on him and kill him in his sleep. Jaesa would surely never forgive him or obey an order from him again. No, her crew were the enemy right now, another painful burden for her to bear.

It seemed like hours, but within 20 minutes, the ships had docked and Xhareen and a young corporal were accompanying the grav-assisted kolto tank onto the larger vessel. The doctor, more animated than he had seem via holo, led them to a small but surprisingly well-apportioned medical bay, where they were joined by a tall, strikingly handsome human man. He immediately began helping the doctor flush the tank and get Quinn’s body out onto the exam table. 

This man. He had black voids for eyes, and radiated an energy Xhareen could not identify.

She must have been staring at him, because he suddenly turned and stared into her like he was facing a yawning cavern. She nodded, then backed out the door, right into her old friend.

“Zavaa,” she whispered, turning toward the welcome face. “Is it safe to call you that here?”

Her friend grabbed her and held her tight. “Yes, we’re safe on the ship but to be honest, I’m past caring who knows my name most days,” she whispered back. They both pulled away, and Zavaa, several inches taller than the Miralukan, held her friend by the shoulders, as if to size her up.

“I’d love to say you look well, but you look like you’ve been to visit a sarlaac and back. For the full thousand years.”

“It’s a long story. We were attacked …” Xhareen looked around, seeing no one within earshot, so she continued, “… by Darth Baras, my former master. And the truth is, I’ve never been worse. If there’s somewhere private we can go, I will tell you the whole sad tale.”

“My quarters. The doctor and Vector are all your captain needs at the moment, and you look like you could use a drink.”

The two women walked through a large commons area, with a full holo terminal in its center, and into a side hallway with crew quarters. This “captain’s billet” was smaller than she’d expected on such a luxurious ship, but comfortably appointed. And definitely shared with a man.

“Wait, you said Vector … Vector Hyllus, the changeling or whatever?”

Zavaa nodded and smiled, blushing even. Xhareen could not help smiling, too, even though Zavaa’s pale skin blushed just like Quinn’s had so many times. “I take it he’s more than just a crew member.”

“Like your captain?” Zavaa gave her friend a poke in the shoulder.

“I hope not, for your sake.” Xhareen took a loud, rasping breath and slid awkwardly down into the cushioned bench along the wall as if her legs had been kicked out from under her.

“Oh my stars, what’s wrong?” Zavaa leaned in and put her arms around Xhareen’s shoulders. The two had been like sisters at the orphanage on Dromund Kaas – Zavaa four years her senior.

Xhareen wished she could cry. She had certainly earned it. Instead of forming tears, though, she took a deep breath, and tried not to sob. She was mostly successful. 

“Is this room secure? We are both so accustomed to lies, but for now, I must resort to the whole truth.”

“It is, so please, don’t hold back.”

And out it came. How she had worked with the dashing, world-weary lieutenant on Balmorra, as impressed with his cunning and skill set as she was with his cheekbones and the cut of his impeccable uniform. How sad and disappointed she was to leave without getting to know him better, even if briefly and just carnally. How surprised and happy she was that he had volunteered to serve on her ship, complete with a promotion and a promise of greater glory to come. 

How he had reluctantly, or so it seemed, succumbed to her relentless attempts to seduce him. And how she had fallen madly, inextricably, in love.

“I’m sensing there’s much more to this story than two lovers attacked by a vengeful and ambitious darth, am I right?”

“Darth Baras was my master at the academy, at the end at least. I hated him, of course, that’s what any young Sith apprentice is supposed to do. But he seemed to trust me implicitly, giving me broad authority to travel the galaxy in order to monitor and protect his network of spies. And he had personally taken Quinn under his wing after Quinn was unjustly court-martialed by an insane moff.”

“Ah, yes, Moff Broysc. The troops here cheered to learn of his long-awaited demise. But your Captain had an unassailable alibi for that, didn’t he?”

“Perfect for putting a blaster round in his brain – a measure of my love for him, because I wanted to cut the mean old fool down myself, Zavaa. He was a danger and an embarrassment to the Empire. He ruined the career of a far superior leader, forcing Quinn to grab scraps of attention from miserable old Baras’s table of lies.”

Zavaa nodded, the wise and wily agent figuring the rest out for herself. “So he followed orders and led you into a trap. And yet, you didn’t kill him.”

“I know how persuasive Darth Baras can be. And somehow, Quinn’s infallible trap failed to kill me, as though maybe he subconsciously wanted it to appear like he had tried and failed. I don’t know. That’s probably wishful thinking on my part. Maybe I was so angry, I could have taken on the entire Republic and won. 

“But he was immediately contrite, and still I attacked him. I threw him across the bay, and when he fell, I picked him up and choked him. I just could not kill him. I was immediately mad at myself for letting my anger get so out of control. I know, I know … that sounds so ‘un-Sithy.’ But I’ve always prided myself on bottling up my rage and using it as well and as carefully as any weapon should be used. 

“So while the clueless crew on board that cruiser got him into a kolto tank, I told them he was caught in a crossfire between myself and two droids Baras had programmed using my training files. I had the ship’s memory wiped clean – easy enough, since the captain was more than eager to earn a favor from a Sith. I accessed my own ship’s files and made it look like Baras had lured us away from Voss, thinking there was a military embargo of Corellia and martial law that we could only circumvent if, as Quinn had said, we sneak on to this ship and steal a military fleet transponder.”

Xhareen fell silent for a moment. A stiff Corellian ale appeared in front of her, courtesy of a ship’s droid that made poor Toovee look like a relic. She took a long drink and continued.

“The funny thing, or the sad thing perhaps, is that I understand why Quinn betrayed me. He was played. Forced to do it, regardless what he thought he’d get out of it. I should forgive him, even though he cared more about saving his career than me. Or maybe he just thought Baras would win no matter what. Maybe both.”

“You think he played you, though? Do you really think he wanted you dead?” 

Xhareen stared into her glass. “I don’t know if it’s love or pride making me say no. I don’t know what the truth is. He started giving this speech, and all I could say is ‘I thought our love was real’ and I’m sure I must have sounded like a jilted teenager. And he gave me this look of shock and disgust. Like suddenly I was not longer this Sith goddess, perfect and infallible, but some frail, mortal being. That somehow, I had been the one to deceive him.”

“There has to be more to the story, Xhareen. You’ll just have to ask him when he wakes up.” 

Just then, the entry bell rang. “Someone wants in. I suppose secret time is over, for now at least.”

Zavaa leaned over and gave her another hug. “To be continued, for certain.”

It was Vector Hyllus, the diplomat who, it was said, was willingly turned into half-hive-minded insect in order to secure a treaty with the Empire. Except for the black pools he had for eyes, he looked fully human, if obviously strong enough to take down a wampa single handed.

“Vector, I want you to meet Lord Xhareen, well, that’s her official name, but for a few moments here, she is my old friend and partner in crime from Dromund Kaas.”

Vector bowed slightly and reached out his hand. Without a thought, Xhareen placed her hand in his. He kissed it. “We are charmed to meet you, my lord. We have never met a Miralukan in person before. Your electric aura thrums a song of war, yet it is a pleasant, rhythmic tune that smells of strength and is reassuring to the hive.”

Xhareen kept her hand in his. Zavaa seemed not to mind his method of diplomacy. Nor did Xhareen mind how soft and yet strong his hands were. Thicker and stronger than Quinn’s, than Malavai’s, hands. Oddly enough, the thought crossed her mind that it was Vector who looked like a warrior and Quinn like a diplomat. “I don’t know what to say except I am pleased to meet you … I believe your official title is Emissary Hyllus?”

“Yes, that is one way we are known. We would prefer you to simply call us Vector.”

“Then officially and simply, well met, Vector.” He put his other hand on hers, and briefly closed his eyes. “The Nest is also pleased to greet a Lord of the Sith and a friend of our mate. We would love to sit and talk, but we are here to deliver word from Doctor Lokin that your captain is stable and it appears he will recover.”

Xhareen felt the room swirl around her and she collapsed back on the bench. “Are you OK, Xhareen?” Vector made sure she was seated upright and steady before he let her hands go. Zavaa rushed over and sat down next to her.

“I think she needs to sleep, Vector. She was also wounded in the fighting and Sith healing only goes so far.” She was led to the “guest quarters,” a spare, metal room with two bunks fastened to the wall and a table and a refresher in the back. But the mattress on the metal platform was soft, the pillow softer, and soon enough, she was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter 3: Yarrow is a bitter herb. Achilles is said to have carried it into battle, to treat the wounds of his bleeding soldiers. And we all know how his story ended._


	4. She Sings Herself to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Another look back_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On board the Fury-class interceptor _Covenant_ with Sith apprentice Xhareen Nah-garesh and Capt. Malavai Quinn, some time prior to the mission on Quesh

Quinn heard footsteps in the corridor just off the bridge. They were in hyperspace, so it was safe to assume it was just one of the crew. He didn’t want to disturb anyone, particularly if the night stalker turned out to be Lord Xhareen, so he whispered to the comm port on the command chair where he sat, “Toovee, heads up text display only, current location of the ship’s crew.”

Everyone appeared to be in their quarters except for Xhareen. _What in the galaxy was she doing standing in a corridor in the middle of the night?_ He didn’t want to intrude, or to startle her, but he really wanted to know. _Of course, it’s my duty to know_ , he told himself.

As a security precaution only, naturally, he’d had the exterior corridors wired, along with command overrides in everyone’s quarters, including hers. There’d be a log if he tried to listen in, even in a hallway, even in the middle of the night. But no one would check on a routine sweep of the non-private areas of the ship. Quinn would simply have to enter in his log that he’d been testing the systems – and now he’d have to do this routinely, though he decided that wasn’t such a bad idea.

He smiled. _Service really was its own reward._

He punched a few buttons and he could hear Xhareen, singing softly. It was not any tune he recognized; the tonal shifts seemed far too complicated for most of the holo-hits that Xhareen seemed fond of singing publicly. He couldn’t imagine himself trying to sing notes like that. Even that song that she’d sung in the open mike cantina on Nar Shaddaa to heartfelt applause had been a relatively standard, even mawkish, ballad. He’d never told her that he followed her there, that he’d spied on her just as he was doing right now.

He’d caught her humming in the galley a few days later, and encouraged her to perform for the crew as part of “nightly sharing” after the evening meal. She’d suggested it as a way for the crew to get to know one another and to break up the boredom of hyperspace. She offered a more subdued version of the same song she’d performed in the cantina. It lacked the emotional rawness he’d heard in her voice that night, but it captured all the warmth and complexity that Miraluka were known for, and he was pleased that everyone showed her how much they enjoyed it.

Quinn could hear the lyrics she was singing now, and they weren’t any language he was familiar with. He’d had a thought at one point on Balmorra to begin to listen to some Miralukan language instructional holos, curious about how it sounded. But these past weeks, after coming on board, training the crew and performing their mission on Nar Shaddaa, he hadn’t found the time.

The strangeness of the words, and their sounds, was only part of the beauty of hearing her sing. Though she wasn’t belting out notes like she was trying to subdue an opponent in battle, Quinn was taken by how she seemed to imbue her breathy whispers with so much sentiment.

A sudden thud, and Quinn was through the door before he even realized he was out of his chair.

“My lord! I heard a noise and came to check …”

“It’s all right, Quinn.” He looked down to see she’d dropped a mug. “I couldn’t sleep, and came here to watch the stars and drink one of Toovee’s tisanes.”

“I heard singing,” he said, bending to pick up the cup before he even realized he’d just busted himself.

She smiled. “That was a lullaby my mother used to sing to me. I could never get to sleep even as a child. She had the most beautiful voice, Quinn. That’s what I remember most clearly about her.”

She reached her hand out to him, and just when he thought she meant to hold his hand, he realized she was beckoning for him to give the cup back to her. He handed it over and began to stammer, “I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, my lord. I was setting up a routine security scan …”

“Again, Quinn, it’s all right. I should have known better than to try to skulk about on a ship run by you. Besides, the tisane has finally kicked in, which is probably why I dropped the mug.”

She stopped to yawn, then turned away. “I’ll be heading back to my quarters now, Captain. You can resume your scan.” The way she flounced her arm as she said the word “scan” confirmed she knew it was as much scam as scan, but she didn’t seem bothered at all.

“My lord, would you sing that song again sometime, during share time?” It was the best deflection he could think of.

“I will sing it again, Captain, but not for share time. I think perhaps I will keep this just between us. Command decision and all. Good night, Quinn.”

“Good night, my lord,” he said to her retreating silhouette. He watched until she disappeared around a corner, and he heard the swooshing sound of her quarter’s doors, opening and closing again.

His ears began to ring in the silence, as though she had taken even the ship’s ambient sounds with her. Or perhaps it was the third cup of caff he’d had after dinner.

Either way, he returned to the bridge and immediately ordered the computer to play back 30-second snippets of all recorded Miralukan lullabies. He wouldn’t remember what he’d heard for long. And he wanted to remember this, always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 and 4: adjusting the past dates in the flashbacks a bit to make more sense and allow more time for the missions and various interludes. This bit of time confusion brought to you by BioWare. 
> 
> All chapters: Changing the spelling of Cipher Agent Zava'a to Zavaa to avoid apostrophe overdose every time I use the possessive.


	5. Little Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alongside the Class A Starship Yaroe Star

Vette tried not to get angry, but the squeak-squish of Pierce's boots across the bridge deck could no longer be ignored.

"Pierce, could you please sit down? Sit in the big chair if it makes you happier." 

The squeaking stopped. "Sorry, Vette. The clock's ticking and we haven't heard a word from that bloody ship."

 _Yeah, I know, I'm nervous, too,_ she wanted to say, but bit her lip instead and repeated the order. "Xhareen told us: If you don't hear from Quinn or me in 60 minutes, open the cage door and fly," she reminded her oversized colleague. "It's been 43 minutes, and we're going to wait."

Pierce grumphed. Vette knew he was probably steamed that Xhareen had left her in charge of the _Covenant_ , but she'd made it clear during numerous disaster drills that Vette had served longer on the ship and would be best able to handle disputes among the crew -- especially if it came down to Pierce and Quinn being at each others' throats. Vette was the best slicer, had more outside contacts and was cross-trained in several ship functions. 

Oddly enough, Quinn was the ship's captain, so he'd had the most to lose by this decision. But he had accepted her decree calmly, unlike Pierce. Perhaps that was because Quinn had trained Vette in most of the ship's systems and was confident she'd act in a manner similar to his. Grampa Grumpypants was probably right, too. _Damn his stubbly face._

"Say what's on your mind, Big Guy."

He walked up to the navigator's chair Vette occupied and sat across from her, his big frame dwarfing the seat. "I don't like this op. Never liked it. Something's up. Quinn seemed squirrellier than ever, and Lord Xhareen hasn't slept since we left Voss."

"Yeah, I get it. But her instructions were clear. Wait til we hear from her and if we don't, we bail."

Vette had spent the first half hour finding a suitable hiding spot, finally settling on an abandoned Czerka shipyard at the edge of Republic space. It wasn't ideal, and there was no way of knowing if they'd be blown to bits by pirates when they got there, because who could resist all that abandoned metal and technology? Heck, she'd probably put on an EVA suit and go scavenging, depending on how long they had to stay.

She couldn't help but agree with Pierce's frustration, though. She'd rather be on that starship, trying to find out whether her best friend and her best friend's grumpy boyfriend were OK. She had this nauseating feeling that they were not.

She looked at the chrono. Fifteen minutes to go.

Suddenly, Vette's personal holo buzzed. An image of Xhareen appeared. "Little Bird. Open the cage door. Protect the nest. Mother Hen out." And the line went dead. 

"Bloody hells!" Pierce cursed. "I knew it!"

"It's not what you think. 'Protect the nest' means Baras attacked them and we have to go, now." She opened shipwide comms. "Prepare for jump to hyperspace in 30 seconds!"

Once they were clear and safely in the lane, Vette called Jaesa to the bridge. She sent Pierce to get Broonmark and do a weapons and hull check. "Mother Hen" meant make sure Jaesa's parents were OK. 

Jaesa arrived out of breath. "What went wrong, Vette?"

"Don't know, but we have to get your parents to safety. Darth Bumass betrayed us."

"How do we do that? Is Xhareen OK? What about Quinn?"

"I only saw her, she looked pretty battered. No sign of Quinn, and there were explosions."

Jaesa came up and sat in the chair Pierce had been in. "Do you think Quinn had something to do with it?"

Vette grunted out her frustration. "Why does everyone think Quinn wants to hurt her, or us? Jaesa, kriff it, you know you've read him a couple of times since you got on board, don't deny it! Did he ever seem to be anything but Officer Starchpants in love with his commanding officer?"

Jaesa sighed. "No, but ..."

"But nothing. And give Xhareen some credit." She punched in course corrections so hard, she chipped a fingernail. 

"Look, Vette, I didn't mean to put you in a foul mood. I'm just worried. About everyone."

"Well, we need to get in touch with our contact on Dromund Kaas and get your parents to safety."

Jaesa gasped. "What do we do?"

Vette handed her a datapad from under the nav console. "Find the 'Little Bird' file. It'll tell you what to do next."

**An hour later**

Jaesa returned to the bridge, and reported that, as far as she could tell, her parents would be picked up and stowed somewhere safely off of Dromund Kaas. She wasn't to know where. They'd be kept safely until Baras was dead, which seemed both a certainty and a necessity now. 

"You know, Quinn has a family, too."

Vette nodded. "Yeah, but all Xhareen ever said was Quinn had their safety taken care of." Which was pretty amazing for a son who hadn't spoken to his mother in 11 years. Not that Vette was supposed to know anything about that.

"And Pierce?"

"I don't think he has anybody. And Tivva is protected by her moff-y boyfriend, and Broonmark hates all of his tribe, so I guess we're all good." She tried to sound chipper, but she knew Jaesa would pick up on the sarcasm. They weren't all good. Not good at all. 

Baras was powerful and mean and didn't mind killing dozens of Imperial troops on Quesh and pissing off the generals who reported to him in this stupid war, all to try and kill Xhareen. Her only crime had been being his loyal apprentice. And Quinn had been his loyal minion. 

_Was he still?_ That's what everyone was worried about. Even if he wasn't doing Baras's bidding anymore, he was the one closest to Xhareen and getting to him would be the best way to get to her. Which didn't take being the top of your class at military school to figure that one out. 

"OK, Vette. I know Xhareen put you in charge for a reason, so I'm trusting your judgment. I'm going back to my quarters to meditate. Let me know when we get there."

"Yeah, I'll probably order everyone to do a Bothan happy dance once we do."

Jaesa came over and kissed her on the top of her left lek. "Not a bad idea. I'd pay lots of credits to see Pierce and Broonmark do just that."

**Twenty-one hours later**

Vette navigated the ship into an empty bay. The place was more desolate than she'd expected. With the war's focus on nearby Corellia, this place had clearly been picked clean. Which was great for their safety, but Vette hadn't done any scavenging since Belsavis, and her fingers were getting itchy, truth be told. A little thievery might make her less worried about her missing friends. 

Pierce began a sweep to see if there were any active ships or signs of life, and Jaesa emerged from her quarters with both good and bad news. 

"Ugh, bad news first, my spooky Jedi friend."

"I can sense Xhareen. She's alive, doesn't seem injured, but she seems incredibly stressed. If she were just a little irritated, I shouldn't be able to sense. But this is like her brain and her whole soul, screaming."

"I suppose you can't pick up anything from Quinn."

"No, but if I had to guess, Xhareen's distress is because of him."

Maybe he'd been hurt, trying to protect her. This was why Vette was glad to be free of romantic interests. But that didn't make it any easier to worry about her two friends. Because yeah, she considered Quinn that way and even he had begun to calm down and warm up to her in recent weeks. She'd been a good student, and he clearly enjoyed teaching. "OK, what's the good news?"

"I don't sense any presence here. No Force users, anyway."

"I'll take what I can get."

Pierce comm'd in a few minutes later. "Security sweeps all clear. Broonmark and I are weapons ready, just in case."

"Thanks, Pierce." 

"Look, Vette. You haven't slept in a long time, and I've been resting and meditating. Let me sit here and watch over things, and you go get some sleep."

It wasn't a bad idea. Vette could get by on no sleep for a long time, but she was at her limit now. "OK, just make sure everyone else is good, too." Pierce had taken a four-hour nap en route, and Broonmark had done whatever it was he did ... sleep, hibernate, Vette could never be sure. 

Now all any of them could do was wait for Xhareen to make contact. 

She wanted Xhareen to be OK. She wanted Quinn to be OK. She wanted to be able to poke Pierce in the pecs and tell him he'd been wrong about him. The only thing she wanted more than those things, and to close her own eyes for a few minutes, was for Baras to take a dirt nap.

Or whatever it was dead darths did.


	6. Little Black Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On board the Phantom. Picks up right after Chapter 3.

“MALAVAI!”

Xhareen screamed out, and the sounds bounced off the metal walls. The door opened a minute later and Vector appeared. “Are you all right, my lord? We heard screaming.”

An image of Malavai – sailing across the transponder bay, through the bulkhead and then being sucked into space – hovered briefly in front of her and disappeared. She sat up. She was awake. It wasn't real.

But the dark-eyed man kneeling in front of her bunk was. He would know if Quinn was OK, and she found her voice quickly. “How is he, Vector?”

“The Doctor has placed him in our ship’s kolto tank. It is a prototype, able to perform more functions than the one he was in previously. Currently, it is knitting his spinal column back to normal. His lungs and bones are nearly healed. His concussion caused some damage, but he’s being kept in a coma until his brain and skull are fully repaired.”

“His spine? Lungs?” Xhareen shuddered. _What have I done_?

“His injuries were quite severe, my lord. Since you were unable to stabilize him before having to move him from harm’s way, there was significant damage to his spine. One of his lungs was punctured as well.”

“Oh my stars. Will he be paralyzed?” _What have I done_? Xhareen began to hyperventilate. She had in no way meant to injure him so severely, not even in her most uncontrolled moment of anger. Now she was the one who had wronged him. Lovers are betrayed every day, and survive, but what she had done was inexcusable.

“Should we bring the Doctor here? Are you OK?” He reached out for her hand and began to meditate. She complied, and immediately, the contact found some deep frequency within Xhareen. Her breath slowed, and she entered a meditative state as well. When her breathing returned to normal, she stayed linked to Vector for a few minutes, longer than perhaps she needed to. He had a comforting, healing way about him and she needed to be whole to face what was on the horizon.

“Thank you, Vector. It seems I lost control thinking about the Captain’s condition. I take my battles for granted, but he lacks the Force power and the Sith ability to self-protect and heal. I should have never put him in harm’s way like that.”

“Your love will guide him back to you, my lord. We can feel it, even in his dark state. The Night Herald will not have him. But you will once more.”

“I don’t know what that means, Vector.” But it sounded good, if a bit poetic. “I simply want my ship’s captain back in action. For the war effort. For the battles to come.”

“It is good news. Though we apologize if we have presumed something about your relationship with Captain Quinn.”

 _Why am I trying to hide it_? “No, it’s just not well known, at least off of my ship.” Xhareen suddenly realized it would be pointless to hide something like that from him, and Zavaa had probably told him anyway. “Sith relationships are fraught with danger in the best of times. I would appreciate it if you kept it between us and Zavaa, who figured it out without the help of the Force.”

“If we may continue to presume, then, we sense that you are worried about more than his physical health. If we can help in any way, do not hesitate to ask. We are a good listener, and we can disconnect from the hive mind if discretion is required.”

“That sounds like an awful lot for me to ask of someone I just met, Vector. Even if you are close to my dear friend.”

He bowed, and Xhareen took it to be a sincere gesture. “We live to serve, my lord. We serve you Sith, we serve the agent our mate, we serve the Hive and we serve the Emperor. It is no inconvenience to offer our assistance.”

A wave of nausea rose and broke. He sounded so much like Quinn. But she was in no shape to turn down legitimate help. “I will most certainly take you up on your offer of a singular audience, at your convenience. And … Zavaa’s as well.”

“It takes some minutes to prepare, and Cipher wishes you to join us for the morning meal.”

“It really is morning, then?” She didn’t feel quite refreshed, but she did feel better. And hungry.

“Yes, my lord. It is an entirely new day.”

“Please, Vector, call me Xhareen.” The nausea abated, and she was ready to start this day.

Vector nodded and helped her stand up. “If you are well enough, I will leave you to get prepared. Please meet us in the dining area when you are ready.”

 

~~~~~~

After breakfast, a rather swift and quiet affair, Xhareen headed to the sick bay. The doctor seemed as upbeat as Vector about Quinn’s progress. But he was still in a coma, and likely to be for some days to come.

“I didn’t realize someone could emerge whole from a tank after more than a day or two. I thought that doing so was simply a way of preserving organs or genetic material for transplant, or at least keeping the person functioning at a level of a housebroken pet.”

The doctor cleared his throat, as though beginning a well-rehearsed speech. Which, indeed, it seemed to be. “Most people are not lucky enough to be the recipients of my talents, my lord, if I do say so myself. I have developed proprietary methods that are revolutionary in how they work. Standard kolto procedures do not apply.” He continued on for a few moments more, delving into medical jargon Xhareen could only just follow. Still, it sounded like hope for a full recovery was a legitimate option. What lay beyond that, only Time would be able to heal.

“Just bring him back to me, Doctor. I’d order you, but I know your pride trumps even a Sith’s command, and that he is in the best hands possible.”

~~~~~~

There was nothing she could do about Quinn for the time being, so Xhareen sought out Zavaa’s company. She needed a favor, and she hoped her friend could help.

Zavaa had settled into the conference room, alone. Xhareen knew she would need to talk about what had brought her here at some point, but making sure her crew were safe came first. She’d managed a panicked call ordering Vette to flee before dragging Quinn out of the transponder bay on the Yaroe Star, but had heard nothing since. That was by design – Vette was supposed to take the ship to safety and wait for Xhareen to contact her. 

“I trust you are a little less worried about your Captain now?”

Xhareen sat down in the chair next to her. “I trust Dr. Lokin’s skills, if I’m having a hard time being convinced Quinn will recover fully.”

“You really shouldn’t worry. He is the best.”

“You know, Zavaa, he is how I found you. I had tracked Dr. Lokin because he is supposed to know something about how my visor works. Then, two months ago, he just disappeared.”

“That was by choice, all of ours that is. It was nearly a miracle that SCORPIO hadn’t deleted the old channel you used to contact us.” Then she smirked. “Well, probably no miracle at all. SCORPIO has her own reasons for everything.”

Xhareen didn’t want to get into a discussion about the scary droid right now. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to know her, really, and was glad the creature had retreated to her usual bunk in the engine room, out of sight.

“Probably. Right now, though, I really should contact my ship. I need to do it discreetly. I'm hoping you can help.”

Without saying a word, Zavaa rose and went to the corner of the room. She lifted up a small black box and brought it to the table. She stood beside the box, her arms outstretched and pronounced with theatrical flair: “This, on the other hand, is a miracle.”

Xhareen felt the sudden need to state the obvious. “It's a box.” Even though she knew better.

“It's an ancient machine of some sort. SCORPIO says the technology is almost 1000 years old, but likely based on tech even older than that. She says she doesn't know any more about how it works, though I'm not sure I believe her entirely.”

Xhareen wanted to touch it, to pick it up and look it over, but she didn’t want to be rude. She knew her old friend had a flair for drama, so she would just go along with her big reveal. “What does it do?”

Zavaa picked up the datapad she’d been staring at on the table. Then, she touched the box with her finger and winced. The box made a whirring noise and then the top opened. All Xhareen could see was a bright glow; something in the box was blocking her Force sight. Clearly, this box did not like Force users; hopefully it was equally opposed to Jedi as it was to Sith. 

“It holds an unknown number of secrets on some dangerous people, who worked tirelessly on destroying both the Republic and the Empire. It can also sift through all known comm systems and scrub it of someone's existence.”

“Sounds like a device from a holodrama spy story.” 

“It probably is. But it's a story I lived through, so trust me when I say I'm not exaggerating, Xhareen. SCORPIO has modified it to track people and communicate covertly and that's just what you need right now. And no one will know about it, because no one can find this ship unless I want them to.”

It really sounded too good to be true, Xhareen thought. But she really needed to make sure her people were safe. “OK, what do I do?”

“There’s nothing you can do. The box doesn’t respond to Force users. You’ll have to interface with this datapad, which we’ve rigged to be the sole link to it. And it only works on my genetic code.”

Hence the wince when she opened the box. It had taken a blood sample. 

“Just plug in the comm info on the datapad.”

Xhareen hesitated. There was something she needed to do first. Quinn had told the crew before they left for the _Yaroe Star_ that he had monitored Baras’s communications. Xhareen worried there might be something among those messages that might incriminate him, and she wanted to erase it before Vette or Pierce had a chance to sort through them. It would help convince them of the lie she needed to tell. 

“What is it, Xhareen?”

“I can’t let my crew find out the truth about what Quinn did. Not yet. I need to discreetly access the ship’s logs, to make sure there’s nothing in the communications to implicate him.” She didn’t think Quinn would have been so careless, but he’d been so jangled and edgy their last week or so on Voss, she was afraid he might have made a mistake, or let something get past him. The incriminating evidence had probably been in his personal comm, which was here on the ship, now that Xhareen thought about it. But she needed to be certain. 

“Do you know the master pass?” Zavaa of course would be better suited for this task. Xhareen nodded, and Zavaa handed her the datapad. “Punch it in.”

It was a code not even Quinn had. The title to the lullaby she’d sung that night on route to Tatooine when she realized he had been spying on her. She smiled, transposing the Miralukan words into Basic. She nearly dropped the pad when she saw a perfect replica of the ship’s master computer board appear in a holo field above the black box.

“You’re certain no one on the ship will know?”

“Not unless they are more proficient in ancient tech than SCORPIO.”

Xhareen told her exactly what was needed: what needed to be excised, what needed to be present. Her friend nodded, then worked for about 15 minutes. Xhareen had to get up and pace around the room as she did. 

Finally, it was done. “OK, I’m sure your Captain would be convinced this is how things went down. And now you can contact your crew.”

Xhareen ran back to the table just as a static bubble appeared over the box, just as it would have on an open holotransmitter. “Can I speak?”

Zavaa nodded as she stood up and stretched. 

“Mother Hen to Little Bird. Are you in your cage?” she said.

Nothing.

Xhareen repeated it again. She saw the strange look on Zavaa’s face. “Not a proper intelligence code, I’m aware.” And they both laughed. “I should tell you the whole story. Vette really is a remarkable person.”

Xhareen figured her lekku must have been twitching, because the required “Chirp, chirp, chirp” came through at that moment, though with quite a bit of static. They both laughed again, and the image field cleared, revealing a young Twi’lek seated at the Covenant’s helm.

“Vette, are you OK? Is everyone OK?”

“All the little chicks are fine, and so is our, um, eggshell? Hey, we didn’t think up a code word for the ship.”

“It’s OK, Vette. We’re on a comm channel that even the Sith can’t trace. Bring me up to speed. No chirps necessary.”

“We fled the scene as you ordered and left Hutt space. There’s an old starship graveyard near Denon and Pierce and I agreed it would be a good place to hang out. Jaesa’s done her Jedi mind thingy and there doesn’t seem to be anyone else out here.”

That was comforting at least. “We’re in Corellian space now. Quinn was seriously injured. I located the ship of an old friend of mine and he’s getting the treatment he needs.”

Vette looked concerned. “How injured?”

“Bad, Vette. He’s still in a kolto tank but the prognosis is good.”

She could see the confusion on Vette’s face. “It’s a special tank, Vette. His spine was damaged when the droids attacked us and there’s a very special doctor here taking care of him. The same doctor I’ve been looking for, in fact.”

“Wow. The Lokin guy? Whose luck just got used up, yours or Quinn’s?”

 _Oh Vette, if you only knew._ Maybe someday she would tell her. But not now. She needed the rest of the crew strong and at their best, focusing on keeping themselves alive and not on killing the traitorous man she loved.

Jaesa came into view. “Master, are you alright? You look drained.”

Xhareen said a quick prayer, that Jaesa wouldn’t be able to see through her façade. “There’s no time to talk now. I’m fine, and we’re in a safe place. Baras can’t get to us here.” 

“What are we going to do?” Jaesa asked.

It was a good question, and Xhareen hadn’t thought her next step through yet. “Stay put unless it gets unsafe there. If you have to leave, I have a contact on Denon who might be able to harbor you and the ship for a short time. Vette, check my personal files under ‘crystal maintenance.’ You’ll see what you need soon enough.”

“Righty-o, chief. And just to be clear, are you certain Darth Batshit can’t find us, either?”

Thank the Maker, Vette had just given her the way in to planting the ruse needed to protect Quinn. “I don’t think so, but you and Pierce should probably check Quinn’s comm logs. He said he’d been monitoring Baras, and that someone from the Empire had informed him of the barricade. My guess is that was one of Baras’s other pawns. Make sure he didn’t leave some kind of backdoor into our systems.”

Vette nodded. “Probably not. I taught Captain Dutiful about how such things were done by us less noble folks, so I’m hoping he kept the systems protected like I said.”

The sad thing was, he most certainly had done just what Vette said. As often as Xhareen wanted to send them both to their rooms because they bickered like spoiled siblings, she knew the two of them worked well together and secretly respected each other. She could feel her skin tighten and her throat close, stifling the urge to sob, thinking about whether they’d ever have the chance to get on her nerves together again.

She took a deep breath and held herself together. “He probably did, Vette. I just need you to make sure. I will contact you again in four hours.”

Zavaa held her hand up to get Xhareen’s attention. “You know, I can put a trace on your ship from here. In case your team needs to relocate or switch comm profiles, we’ll be able to find them again and … ”

“Hey!” Vette interrupted. “That shouldn’t be possible because my switch algorithms are unbreakable and aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Zavaa nodded. “It’s OK. You can tell them who I am.”

Xhareen explained that Zavaa had been with her in the orphanage on Dromund Kaas and had been with Imperial Intelligence until it was dissolved, and was now a contractor of sorts. 

“Wow. You Intelligence types get all the cool toys, don’t you?”

If you only knew, Xhareen wanted to say. “Vette, let Zavaa do what she needs. Zavaa, can you set it so that if there’s an emergency, we are contacted here immediately?”

“Not a problem.” She got to work and had the codes sent and installed within a few minutes. 

Vette’s eyes were wide with admiration. “You really gotta teach me how you do that, spooky spy friend of my scary Sith friend.”

“OK, Vette. I need to go. Keep everyone safe, Little Bird.”

“You got it, Mother Hen. All us chicks are … oh, forget it. Xhareen, we will be safe. We want you and Quinn back safe as quick as possible so we can just go give it to Darth Asshat. Vette out.”

The holofield went dark. Zavaa touched the datapad, and the box shut itself down.

“Zavaa, is there anything you can tell me about that box?”

Zavaa grinned her megawatt smile. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Xhareen broke into a fit of laughter, then went over and hugged her friend. “Thank you so much for everything.”

“You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even if you are Sith.”

They hugged even tighter. The Sith had taken so much from both of them. Zavaa had lost her Intelligence post. Xhareen had been betrayed by her master, and would be shunned by the Sith until she killed Baras. But Zavaa had her little black box and Xhareen had her lightsabers and maybe together, they would prevail.


	7. Pasts and Prologues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up right after Chapter Six

**On board the _Phantom_**

Knowing her crew was safe, and that Quinn had not used the ship to contact Baras or any of his flunkies, Xhareen felt like she could finally take a breath. Before she even realized where she was walking, she was at the medbay.

Dr. Lokin was gone. She was alone with Quinn, still floating in the tank. She stared at his face. Even in a medical coma, he looked as anxious as he had the past few weeks. Not that he deserved any rest, given what he had done, but Xhareen didn't want to have to deal with Quinn if he was going to be jangled and distressed after he woke up.

She just wanted him to wake up. The need to know why he did what he did was much stronger than any desire for retribution. And the only revulsion she felt at the moment was at herself, for losing control and leaving him so close to death. 

She pulled up a chair and sat next to the tank. The burbling of the kolto pump soothed her overworked nerves a little, at least.

She was in uncharted territory here. Yes, he had set up a scenario to kill her at her enemy’s behest. But his odd speech before the droids attacked had her mind still roiling. That was not the man who had shared her bed for the past three months. And his stupid, elaborate plot had been so unnecessary if all he had to do was kill her. Baras could have easily given him immunity; no one on the Dark Council would question his right to kill a rogue apprentice and they all had to know Baras only worked through his minions. 

Why didn’t he just pump the ship full of gas, tie everyone up, and put a blaster bolt through her head as she slept? He could have absconded with Jaesa and left everyone else to die. Or not. Quinn was supposedly the master strategist, yet he’d worked up this risky scenario that could have failed at numerous points. Was that what Baras had ordered? Was the old man losing control of all his schemes and plots, as Servants One and Two had intimated? Xhareen had just worked out how to kill a group of people she cared about in a few seconds. 

Maybe Baras had needed her more than she ever needed him. Worming her way into his good graces was her ticket to Vengean; ending Baras’s master was the reason she’d signed up for this whole deal in the first place. She was no more pure in the eyes of the Sith than Vemryn. It was only when she fired up her lightsabers that she proved her worth to them. 

Given Quinn’s state of mind during the end of their stay on Voss, she suspected Baras had contacted him around 15 days before the apparition of Madaga-Ru informed her that one of her own worked to betray her. He’d questioned almost every decision she made on the planet since their arrival, then became strangely quiet when The Hand told her to confront the Voice of the Emperor. None of the crew enjoyed a moment on the planet, for all its natural beauty, but Quinn had been unsettled from the start. He had warned her to stay clear of Darth Serevin, the first time she’d ever heard him utter a word of contempt for a Pureblood, let alone a well-connected darth. He’d feigned the need to attend to ship and Imperial matters when she insisted on helping Serevin, so she relied on the rest of the crew to fulfill those missions. 

She was glad she’d taken Jaesa to finish the work The Hand had given her. Quinn would have come unhinged in the temple, in the presence of the Emperor and the spirit of Sel-Makor. She still shared his bed every night, but they stopped with the nightly intimacy. At the time, Xhareen had just put it to the overall stress of the assignment and the relationship settling into a more advanced stage. Quinn still expressed his love for her, still kissed her, still reached for a discreet touch of her hand in public. She hadn’t seen him pulling away, much less figured out why. 

She didn’t realize how much time had passed until Zavaa buzzed her on the comm. “Going to spend all day in there? You missed the midday meal. Come to the lounge and eat while Vector and I keep you entertained.”

She agreed. Then she stood up, touched the tank and whispered, “Come back to me, Quinn. I need to know.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Xhareen could see them in the lounge before she got there. Zavaa was laughing, moving into Vector's arms, kissing him. She'd never seen her friend like this. Zavaa had always been cool and aloof to her love interests, even as a teenager. Friends got much more affection from her. Yet here she was, as giddy in love as Xhareen was. Or had been.

They saw Xhareen and pulled apart.

“No, don't stop on my account.” She hadn't meant to embarrass them. She had put this on everyone, making her now-broken relationship the centerpiece of a cloying drama even Vette might think overwrought.

Vector had apparently done his “unjoining” ritual because he stood there, smiling, with eyes as gray and bright as the Dromund Kaas sky after a summer storm, in those moments before the sun returned to burn up the wet, heavy air.

“Oh, I get it. This is where we talk, am I right?”

“Just sit, Xhareen. Eat some real food for a change.”

She had to admit, it smelled good. Not that they didn't have fresh food on the _Covenant_ , but she was suddenly hungry. She ate while Zavaa and Vector recounted the story of how they met.

“I'm truly happy for you both, and I confess, I envy you,” Xhareen said. “I fear I have ruined my only chance at love.” She placed her fork down and pushed the plate away.

“That's nonsense and you know it, Xhareen.” Zavaa motioned to the droid standing in the corner, so quiet Xhareen hadn't seen it. The droid removed the remnants of her meal, and itself.

Zavaa had always been the kind of friend who would say “they're a jerk, move on” but Xhareen knew Zavaa figured out how deeply she cared for the patient in the medbay. But right now, Xhareen had no way of knowing if Zavaa meant she and Quinn still had a chance, or if she was encouraging Xhareen to realize that at some point, she'd be able to move on. 

“I keep going over everything and I can't find a way to make any of it make sense. Quinn is not a liar. That's not a morality assessment; it's just not in his skill set. If he had been a mole all along, I don't think he knew it. He's a terrible actor and if he'd been faking his attraction and affection toward me, I would have seen it. Even if I hadn't, Jaesa and Vette certainly would have seen it.”

“But he did deceive you, to get you onto that starship, right?” Zavaa had a way of not pulling punches. It was probably a mercy that she wasn't going to do it now, either.

“He can be sneaky and quiet. I guess he's capable of a lie by omission.”

“You know what I'm going to ask next, don't you? The big question: Why?” She sounded like an Imperial prosecutor, preparing for a trial.

“I don't know why. Every time I try to think about it, it takes me to ugly places where love means nothing and career means everything.”

“But he does love you,” Vector said. “Your pain is from betrayal, not doubt.”

Had she doubted Quinn's love since they became a couple? No, she hadn't. She had to be honest about that. She'd spent months convinced he'd never be ready to start a relationship, but once they had spent their second night together, she knew his feelings, and hers, were real.

“I know this sounds corny, but I thought I had met a soul mate in Quinn … in Malavai. He was all rules and regulations and perfection when I met him. We were so different, and it was exhilarating. When he said no to my advances, I was hurt, but for the first time ever, I was glad someone who had rejected me wasn't going away.

“So we spent months together as something more than friends, but less than lovers. I reveled in his sense of duty to the Empire. I have always differed from so many Sith in that regard, and it was good to find someone who wants to keep our way of life safe.

“But that’s what went wrong, in the end. He served a different master, not me, and it happened to be Darth Baras, the man who wants me dead. Baras may have promised him nothing more than his life if he did his bidding and got rid of me, but I know Quinn. He'd pick himself up and get back to work the next day.”

“If I may presume, Xhareen, but Zavaa filled me in a bit on your situation last night, discreetly, of course. You are certain Captain Quinn’s motives were entirely about his career?”

“I don’t know. I had no time to interrogate him after our confrontation. Zavaa did you … I mean, she told you what I did, yes?”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to comfort you and the burden you now carry with regards to that. Not yet, anyway. I’d like permission to talk to the captain when he is able.”

“Of course, as long as it’s discreet. Quinn cannot be set back in his career anymore. Even if that’s why he betrayed me.” Saying all this out loud drained any reserve of strength she had regained, and she laid her head down on the table.

 _Let him have what he wanted all along._

Vector rose from his chair, and came over to Xhareen. He folded his hands in front of his face, as if in prayer. “I will go meditate and consult with the Hive, without revealing any names of course. We should speak again.”

Xhareen nodded, afraid that if she spoke, her voice would break. He touched her on the shoulder, and excused himself.

Zavaa waited until the door closed behind him. “Look, you saw what the Black Codex can do. If you want, I can look into this some more.”

“That’s fine, but I don’t know what good it will do. I can't get past the notion that Quinn did what he did because of what’s in his heart, not what’s in his past.”

“Yes, well, fortunately for you, your friends have more faith in you than that.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next three days passed without incident. Zavaa worked most of her waking hours alone in the conference room. They all came together for meals in the lounge, talking about anything except Quinn. Xhareen made fast friends with the junior officers, talking and playing friendly rounds of pazaak. She kept in regular touch with her crew; they were bored, probably getting cabin fever, but all was OK for now. 

But when everyone on the _Phantom_ dispersed for their various tasks, Xhareen felt like dead weight, with nothing to contribute. Two of the main crew – a Rattataki anarchist and a Force-sensitive human who had been hiding with the Chiss Ascendency, apparently -- were off on a brief mission, Zavaa had told her, so everyone had additional tasks to perform. Xhareen volunteered to help, but Zavaa worried her crew would feel uncomfortable, so she dropped it. 

She took to reading a classic holonovel Vector recommended, sitting in the medbay next to the kolto tank. It was more restful than her attempts to sleep in the cold, steel cabin. She asked Dr. Lokin if she could bring a cot in for overnights, but he vetoed it.

“SCORPIO monitors the machine when I'm not here, my lord. If anything happens, I can be here in a minute. And you need your rest.”

“I've tried sleeping in the cabin. I can't.” Not without dreaming. And she couldn't bear dreams right now.

“I can give you something for that.”

She shook her head. “I'll just have to hope Vector has another holonovel suggestion.”

“You could try reading some of his diplomatic reports. I'm sure that would be more effective than any tranqs I might give you.”

She went over and hugged him. He balked for a second, then returned the gesture.

“I'll figure something out. But it is OK if I stay here for part of the day?”

He consented. “Just take care of yourself, doctor's orders. He's going to need you when he wakes up, no matter what has transpired between you.”

She had no answer for that. She simply nodded and went back to her post, and pretended to read.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Six days after boarding the _Phantom_ , Vector received a call from Dr. Lokin during the midday meal. Xhareen wanted to trail along; she knew what was happening even if Lokin had revealed nothing. But Zavaa gave her a look, and she nodded and continued to poke at her food. 

“Just wait. They will call you when you’re needed.”

An hour or so later, cold bowl of stew still in front of her, Dr. Lokin’s voice sounded over the comm. “Your captain’s out of the tank, my lord. We’re starting the process of waking him up. You may come to the medbay when you like.”


	8. Buried Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Quesh. There are mentions only of sexual assault and sexual slavery.

_“My lord. My lord. You have to wake up.”_

Xhareen could hear the voice but couldn’t quite place whose it was. Deep, masculine, proper. She was aware, but her vision was clouded and she couldn’t understand how or why. She heard a small pop, then a nauseating wave of stench filled her nostrils. She sat up and realized she was being held. 

It was Quinn. She could hear his voice, trying to calm her and tell her she was OK. But she couldn’t see him. Not even with the Force. She raised her hand up to her eyeless face and could feel her cybernetic visor had been removed, too. 

“I’m afraid your visor’s been damaged.” 

“I can’t see, Quinn. Why can’t I see?” 

She heard him sigh. A worried exhalation. After six months on duty together, she could tell every one of them, and he had as many different sighs as Talz had words for snow.

 “I believe you have a slight concussion from the cave-in. It must be affecting your ability to use the Force. I gave you a kolto shot, but it may take a few moments to relieve any lingering pressure.” 

“Then why are you so worried?” 

A frustrated sigh. “Because we’re trapped here and I can’t figure a way out and you should be getting better care than I can give you from a medpac.” 

“Are you hurt?” Knowing Quinn, he could have lost a leg and he'd be more worried about her than himself. 

“I believe I re-bruised my ribs, but I seem to be otherwise unharmed. You expended quite a bit of Force energy to keep the rocks off of us, which is why we’re still here.” 

Baras. He had sent his new plaything, Lord Draahg, to kill her by causing a cave-in on the vile, toxic planet of Quesh. She and Quinn had infiltrated the cave, directly under the Empire’s secret base, hoping to prevent Republic spies from doing the exact same thing. She wondered if the troops in the base above had survived, or if they were nothing but crushed bone and flesh in the tons of rocks sitting above their heads. 

Not that Baras would care about damaging the Empire if it meant furthering his own selfish goals. She’d seen this part of his scheme too late to free herself and her crew from Baras’ clutches. If she and Quinn didn’t survive, she worried what would become of the rest, especially Jaesa. Baras would not hesitate to imprison her and turn her for his own use against whomever stood in his way. 

“How big of an area are we in? The air seems OK. It stinks, but it can be breathed.” 

“I’d say it’s a few hundred cubic meters.  There’s space beyond what the torch is illuminating, but I haven’t gone exploring yet. I did a scan earlier, and there didn’t seem to be any toxic gas leaks.” 

A torch. Light. Xhareen couldn’t even see that. 

“I can’t see anything, Quinn. I have to confess, I’m a bit unnerved.” What she meant was terrified, but she didn’t want to seem weak – or to overly worry – her dutiful captain. 

“As am I, Xhareen.” Quinn pulled her closer to him. “But I am here. We will figure something out.” 

Too bad this was happening in a cold, dark cave with the threat of death hanging over them. She started to make a joke about it, but Quinn kept talking. 

“I cannot believe Baras would do this to you. You have followed his every command and achieved all of his objectives, and then some. I know it’s purportedly the Sith way, but what is he up to that he would think you would no longer be of use to him?” 

Was she simply not needed anymore? Had Baras become too suspicious of all the connections she had made on every planet he sent her? Did he finally figure out she was an alien? “He tried to kill you, too, Quinn. And you served him a lot longer than I did.” 

“My usefulness to him had apparently expired, although I expected as much after I joined your crew and he never spoke to me again. If you can be simply tossed away, imagine how easy it is to dispose of a mere disgraced Imperial officer.” 

The rest of the crew and probably everyone on Balmorra all thought Quinn to be insufferably cocky. Only with Xhareen had he shown how little he regarded himself sometimes.  True, he was generally the smartest person in any room. True, he worked harder and longer than anyone she’d ever known. True, he served the Empire and the military with a genuine devotion that made others, even his superiors, uncomfortable. 

“My bet is Baras was afraid of what the two of us have accomplished together. He knew that every time he sent me on a mission, I was making my own alliances, gathering favors and doling out boons. On my own, I wouldn’t have the time or resources to be doing that. You managed my affairs, ran my ship and kept me alive. You’ve made it possible for me to be a true Sith.” 

Quinn squeezed his arms around her a bit tighter. She nestled in closer, and was surprised when he didn’t pull back. “I’m surprised you haven’t chided me for this non-military communication, Captain. Though I’m not complaining about the company or the warmth.” She was beginning to note the chill in the cavern now that power and life support were gone. It wasn’t unbearable, at least not yet. 

“I’m acting in my capacity as your personal physician and keeping up your core temperature. Therefore, this is a permitted interaction.” 

“I can hear you smiling, Quinn. Though I’m sure you still have your worry face on.” 

“I believe it is a proper face. This is twice in a week I’ve thought I’d lost you. And don’t you dare go apologizing again. Stars, you sound like me when you do that.” 

Xhareen had had a terrifying rage fit after the ordeal trying to reunite Vette with her mother. All the anger she’d felt after losing her own family so long ago had resurfaced, and she couldn’t control it. Quinn had been caught in the maelstrom of debris when her desktop hit him in the chest.  [A/N: you can read that [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6554092).]

“How long have we been down here? Were you conscious the whole time?” 

“I believe so. The chrono on the medkit says seven hours since we checked in before the mission.” 

So the crew would definitely be looking for them by now. Their best bet would be Jaesa, using the Force to locate her master, except Xhareen was certain she had, as during her rage fit, drained her Force power entirely. Certainly, the explosion and cave in would have been at least felt on the surface, although if there had been any significant damage to the base, it would hamper rescue operations even if they knew where to look. 

“If I could just reach out to Jaesa, let her know we’re OK and where we are. But my Force battery must be on nil if I can’t even see. Maybe I should just rest for a while, see if I can recharge.” 

“No, no. Xhareen, you should try to remain conscious until I can determine the extent of your injuries. You need to keep your temperature up. Your blindness may just be due to draining your Force reserves, or it could be more serious. I will not take any chances, you hear?” 

“All right, Dr. Quinn. But I confess, I am drained and tired already. How do you suggest I remain awake?” 

“I could tell you stories.” They both laughed. “OK, perhaps you should start.” 

“What kind of a story would you like to hear?” It was always intriguing when Quinn wanted to know more about her, or her homeworld or her people. Even when he prodded her with questions about her physiology, since she could almost be certain to make him blush with personal information. True, most of the sharing had been one way, with Quinn’s notorious lockdown mentality. But she enjoyed opening up to him, because it was occasionally reciprocated. 

“Why don’t you tell me who you really are, and how you really ended up in Baras’ service?” 

 _Touché, captain_ , she thought.  “I’m found out then, I suppose.” 

“I must confess, I know part of your story. More than you think. While you were recovering from your last ordeal, Vette and Pierce felt compelled to spill what they knew about your past. Naturally, I have been sorting through everything they told me for the past week. I have many questions, although I suppose the most crucial missing piece is how you ended up in the fighting pits on Hutta.” 

“It’s not a pretty story, Quinn. I couldn’t tell you any of these things for fear of Baras finding out,  and tracing back through my past. Maker knows  what he’d do to you or any of the crew, but it would seem that’s not a concern anymore. I just hope you don’t try to leave my service again once you find out.” 

“I can’t imagine you doing anything that would make me think less of you, Xhareen. I understand what it means to be Sith, at least as much as a non-Sith can figure out. And I’ve resolved all the issues created by the constant distraction you represent, so no need for a transfer on that account anymore.” 

“Well, that’s a disappointment. I enjoyed the notion that you were thinking about me in non-military ways.” 

“Never said I stopped, my lord. I’ve just figured out how to get my work done first.” 

 _Now that was really intriguing_ , Xhareen thought, but she’d have to leave it for another time. 

“OK, I will tell you the story, but you must promise to be honest with me if it diminishes me in your view. ” 

“Agreed, though I doubt it will be necessary. Do continue, then.” 

She started with the part he probably knew, that she had been fostered on Dromund Kaas to a Pureblood Sith named Darth Neveris and his Miralukan wife, Lord Gamheen. They took in talented Force-sensitive aliens with full approval of the Dark Council, or so they thought. Their sole motive was to create strong alien Sith loyal to the council and the Empire. Their compound was a two-hour speeder flight inland from Kaas City, separated from the capital area by the Dark Forest. 

But a human council member, Darth Vengean, began espousing “Sith purity,” a laughable notion given that most of the council at that time were themselves not Purebloods, whereas Darth Neveris could trace his own lineage back to a time before the Emperor ascended to power. Vengean attacked the compound, killed everyone except six of the children and one acolyte. The acolyte, acting upon Neveris's preconceived plans, got the children to safety in an Imperial orphanage. 

Except the orphanage was anything but safe for alien children. Xhareen and her Chiss boyfriend Releah and her Mirialan friend Myroli managed to gain some freedom from constant bullying by allying with the senior cadet leader, a human military orphan named Zavaa. They also had several friends and classmates who simply disappeared; no one believed the headmaster's stories about them being successfully adopted off planet. 

Xhareen wanted nothing more than to challenge the authorities for proof, but Zavaa cautioned her against it. So she deferred to her older friend's wisdom. 

Then, one day when Xhareen had been at the orphanage nearly a year, she came upon an Imperial officer, assaulting Myroli. 

Quinn began to squirm. “I can stop if you want, Quinn.” 

“No, go on. I just … I heard about things like this happening and getting swept under the carpet.” 

“There was no chance of that happening. The soldier was distracted when I came upon them, giving Myroli enough of an opening to push him off of her. She … she just lost it. She zapped him with lightning until his corpse was smoking. 

“She certainly had cause. She was underage. Soldiers were not even allowed to be in the student dormitories. But rumors had it that military rape victims were shusshed. Paid off if they were of good families, and sent into slavery if not. And by slavery, I mean sex slavery. You know, as a punishment for enticement.” 

“I'm so ashamed, Xhareen. I ...” 

She touched him on the arm. “You had nothing to do with it.” 

“So how did you wind up being sent away? Because you were a witness?” 

“Not exactly. I said I was the one who killed him, thinking it would spare Myroli if they had someone else to blame. And when Releah found out about it, he came forward and took the blame, too.” 

“So instead of discovering the truth, the authorities simply sent all three of you away, then?” 

“Yes. Myroli was sent into the sex trade. At age 16. Releah was sent to the mines on Apatros, and I was sent to Hutta.” 

“Why in the galaxy would any of that make me think less of you, though?” 

“Because if you dig deep enough, you'll find I was indeed the one blamed for the soldier's death. No matter what he did, it was considered murder and I was complicit for not stopping her. But to be honest, I would have killed him if she hadn't.” 

When she was done, Xhareen leaned back onto Quinn’s chest. He resumed his hold on her, then kissed her chastely on the top of her head. “No worries, Xhareen.  I cannot even imagine what you went through. How could I begin to blame a child for trying to protect her friends or herself?” 

“I haven't even started with what happened in the pits.” 

“There's no need, at least not now. Please trust me when I say I admire you even more now, if that were possible.” 

It was an unexpected sentiment coming from Quinn. She turned her head up toward him, and suddenly could see the outlines on his face. She’d relaxed so much by sharing her tale, that some of her Force power had returned. She reached her hand up and stroked the side of his face. Quinn leaned in to kiss her, but just as their lips touched, a loud crash echoed from the eastern wall of the cavern, and Quinn pulled away abruptly. 

“Blast!” Xhareen said. 

“No, my lord, that sounded more like a pneumatic drill.” 

Xhareen let out a resigned laugh. “Oh Quinn, I’d punch you if I hadn’t already damaged you once this week.” 

“Oh. Right. That kind of blast. Sorry. I guess we can pick up where we left off another time. I’m going to attempt to communicate with whoever’s trying to rescue us.” 

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Quinn,” she said as he pulled away and stood up. 

He looked away from the holocomm in his hands. “I told you I was growing closer to the idea of us being, um, closer. There are things we should resolve first, and we need to make sure we’re safe from Baras’s machinations before we let down our guard in any way.” 

 _Damn him for being right_ , Xhareen thought, but all she said was, “Thank you, Malavai. For everything.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Awake, and Everything Has Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This was previously the first chapter of this work. Now, it's happening as it happens instead.]

Malavai Quinn heard voices in his head. Voices he recognized. But this place he did not know.

_“I can’t kill you. Why can’t I kill you.”_ She was screaming. His Sith lord was screaming. 

_“No, please, Xhareen!_ He remembered screaming that to her just as the red bolts hit him and he flew through the air.

A wave of pain dashed him against a bulkhead. _No._ He was just waking up. _Was he screaming?_

“Quinn.” It was her. “Quinn, wake up.” She sighed. He heard her sigh. “He thrashes his legs about like he’s having nightmares. Is he ever going to wake up, Doctor?”

An older man, white hair, beard. Gentle touch. Pleasant voice. But perhaps a bit dangerous?

Quinn opened his eyes. _Protect her._ He was lying on a med table, on a ship. Not his ship. He corrected himself: _Not her ship._ He was tied down. No, he was held in a harness around his chest and wearing a breathing mask. He ached all over, as though he had been running or swimming for days. Harnessed was fine with him. 

It felt like hours were flying by. But the man looking over him hadn’t moved.

“My lord,” the man spoke. “He is waking up now.” The man laid a hand on Quinn's shoulder. “Be still, son. You are just barely out of the woods, and only because you are probably the luckiest man in the galaxy.” 

That would be a change. He never trusted luck; he trusted skill and hard work and dedication and loyalty to the Empire. Luck had always betrayed him.

She came into his view. He turned his eyes away. He knew to hold onto the shame. She tried to kill him. She should have killed him. She said she would spare him. Did she know what torture that was?

“Thank you, Dr. Lokin. Thank you.” She sounded relieved. She approached the table, but stayed just out of reach. Was that fear on her face or anger? Would she ever understand why he did what he did? It was as predictable as the snows on Alderaan that a Sith and her master would eventually turn on one another. But he had vowed to stand at her side, to follow her into any battle. Then Baras contacted him and there he was again, caught in the middle. A pawn. Always a pawn.

His arms were free, so he reached out to her but, as he thought, she was just beyond his reach. He tried to speak her name. Then he remembered, what he had done, what she had done, and managed to whisper “My lord …”

“Be still, Quinn. A droid arm nearly crushed your larynx. You’ve been in a kolto tank for six days. You’re nearly healed, but you should not speak yet. The mask is helping you breathe.”

_All the things I want to say to you,_ he thought. _I know you are lying. We agreed to lie. And yet, that was a kindness, a kindness I did not deserve. You were standing over me, you could have killed me, but instead we agreed to a lie. Then, I slept._

He laid back. The doctor pushed a button, and the med table raised him up a bit more. “He should try to stay awake, for a while at least, my lord. Make sure he does not move his chest until I am certain his spine is healed.”

“I will keep him company, Doctor. Would it be possible for us to have some privacy?”

“Of course, my dear. I will leave you two alone, but if he shows any distress, press the comm button immediately.”

“I will, Doctor. Thank you.”

The Doctor moved outside of Quinn’s line of sight. A slight whoosh, and another, and they were alone.

He braved a look at her. Even though she wore a metal visor over her non-existent eyes, he could tell she was tense, that she hadn’t slept. How she held her shoulders, how she paced her breaths. A tightness across her cheeks. He reached out his hand, again, but she did not move any closer.

“Quinn, the room is secure. I know you can’t talk and I’m not ready for that, anyway. I need you to know what I’ve told everyone and I need you to promise you won’t say a word to dispute it.”

He went to move his mouth to speak, but remembered. She had said not to speak. He was able to give the smallest nod of his head.

"Can you move your arms well enough to hold a tablet?”

He lifted one arm at a time, stretching and flexing his hands. He nodded again.

She reached over onto the counter next to the bed and retrieved a tablet and a stylus. “Do you think you can write?”

He took the tablet, his hand purposely grazing hers as she handed it off. She withdrew as if he were on fire.

_I’m sorry_ , he wrote, and then pushed the repeat key several times.

“I know, Quinn. That doesn’t mean I can forgive you.” She sighed, hard, again. “I’m not here to discuss us. I need to let you know the cover story I told the others. You are to give out as few details as possible, but I want to make sure our stories line up. I trust you can do this, right Quinn?”

_Malavai,_ he wrote.

“I’m not ready for that, Quinn. I can barely manage my temper. Perhaps I should just leave.”

_No, please. Don’t want you upset anymore. Quinn is fine._

“Fine, then. I told the crew, and the Doctor, that Baras hacked your files on the ship and used an agent in the Fleet to deceive you about the blockade, then dangled the information that led you to think we could get through if we stole the transponder. And that when we entered the transponder bay, we were both attacked by the droids.”

_My injuries. Not from a droid. Military dr would notice._ He winced as he turned the tablet around. She had thrown him at least 20 feet into the far bulkhead, lifted him off the ground by the neck using the Force, and then choked him unconscious. He remembered her screaming “Why can’t I kill you!” before he passed out. He woke again briefly, she was talking to him, then dragging him by the collar out of the bay. He was beginning to feel the pain again, everywhere.

“I blamed the droids as being something I’d never faced before. They knocked me back and I lost my lightsabers, and you were caught in the crossfire trying to retrieve one of them. You reached me, but one of the droids then knocked you back with its arm. I was able to defeat them, but you lay there for several minutes. Then I had to drag you from the bay, right before one of the droids exploded and vented the compartment into space.”

_Do they know about the droids?_

“That you were the one who had so brilliantly programmed them to kill me, based on your canny observations of my fighting style?”

He was not able to stop the tears from forming in his eyes. She was hitting back with his own words to her, from his carefully prepared and apparently ineffective speech designed to convince her he had remained faithful to Baras. He deserved her cruelty.

And yet she hadn't bought any of it. She had let him live, protecting her pride and status, she said. He was a good officer, an exemplary officer, a credit to the Empire and she would be damned first before she let him betray her and deny the Empire his continued service and obedience. And make it all her fault. He had remembered all that, all that cruelty, through the pain, until the fog rolled over him and he was cast adrift in unconsciousness.

_Yes._

“I did not mention it at first. You were smart enough, at least, to write it as a proposed training routine.”

_It was a training routine._

She ignored that. “I went through all your data files after we arrived here and made it look like Baras had them hacked. Then I had Pierce and Vette go through the files to confirm you'd been deceived. Pierce doesn’t want to believe it, but he wouldn’t even if it were true. Vette, despite how mean you can be to her sometimes, now feels sorry for you.”

_I know I don’t deserve this._

“I can’t necessarily agree, Quinn. I am angry with you, angrier than I have ever been at anyone. Even Baras. I expected him to try to kill me. But you? I still don’t trust my feelings about all this. But I cannot let your career be compromised. Not now. The Empire needs you, even if I wanted to let you go. Even if I wanted to …”

She fell silent. Tears were streaming down his face. She couldn’t cry, not ever, but he could tell she was grieving, too. Her brow furrowed, she dropped her head and looked at the floor.

But this was what she wanted, right? That he show his emotions, give in to his passions? Right now, he was in mourning for all that had been lost between them.

_I love you._

“That only makes it harder. All of this, harder.”

He didn’t want her to get angry, but he also didn’t want her to leave. Best to change the subject.

_Where are we? How did we get here?_

“On the ship of a friend, a former cipher agent. After we left the droid battle, I had you put in a kolto tank and when I learned she was here above Corellia, I had you transferred to her vessel. Called in a few favors to get us here without being noticed.”

She handed him a cloth, pointing to his face. He wanted to start crying again, this time for joy, though. She was at least talking to him about mundane things and that was a start. Repairing their love affair, if it were possible, could wait. For now, he’d settle for small talk and seeing her face. He wiped his face, then started to write again.

He looked at her, but her expression had grown cold. He could see it in the set of her lips, not the soft, brown lips he could feel on his fingers … did she remember how it set him on fire whenever she kissed his hands?

_Allow me to repent. I will serve you, even if things between us are forever changed._

“I can’t say, Quinn. I just can’t say. I promised you I would see you restored. I saved you when I could have killed you, to do just that. I could have just as easily concocted a victorious sob story over your smoldering corpse.”

_Maybe too soon. Don’t want you angry. Ever._ He’d seen her go into a rage before, and had the cracked ribs to prove it – and she wasn’t even angry at him at the time. Right now, he needed to survive to see if she could ever forgive him.

“You’re right, Quinn. It’s too soon. I know you did what you felt you had to do, for whatever reasons, but I cannot forget the pain yet. I do not know if I ever can. I have never loved someone like I lov…” She turned away from him, and was quiet for several moments. “I am lost, Quinn. Blind, truly blind, without even the Force to guide me.”

He tapped on the tablet, and she turned around. _I am sorry. Only wanted to spare you pain. Now I’ve caused you more._

“I accept your apology. But you have to accept that I simply cannot forgive you … yet.”

_Yet gives me hope. All I need right now._

“Then there it is. I will leave now. Please hand me that tablet.”

_Yes, my lord and my love. I live to serve._

She took the tablet, opened the back, and removed the small data storage spike inside. She wrapped her hand around it for a brief moment, then dropped it to the floor. In a flash and a hum, her light saber was armed and she touched it deftly to the spike, disintegrating it without so much as singeing the floor.

“All of that was private, too. I will protect you, Quinn, no matter what.” She quieted her weapon, turned away and walked out the door.

“I love you, always” he whispered to the empty room, though he would have shouted if he could.


	10. The Lightness of a New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up just after chapter 1

 

**On board the Phantom, six Imperial standard days after arrival**

 

Xhareen left the medbay and walked as quickly as she could back to her quarters. Confronting Quinn had gone both better and worse than she had expected. Seeing him trying so hard to ask for forgiveness. Dancing around the truth about why he’d succumbed to Baras. 

Even if she assumed he was telling the truth, that he had set everything up to sacrifice himself on her behalf, he hadn’t gotten around to saying why. Why that was even a remote alternative. Why in all that analytical brain of his, he couldn’t have found some other way. 

All these questions and doubts were starting to create a negative space in her head, forming itself into a shape that looked just like her. 

She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing another person at this moment, so she locked the cabin door behind her. She was shaking and felt nauseous and as soon as she hit her bunk, the sobs began. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

**Later that day**

 

Quinn was off the breathing mask, but the Doctor seemed worried about removing the restraint holding him to the bed. The bed itself was lifted such that he was almost sitting upright. Lokin had said his muscles and nerves were gaining strength nicely. 

“But I have a Sith lord watching me and if anything goes wrong …” he clicked his tongue and winked. 

“You are wise not to make her angry, Doctor.” Quinn’s voice was still raspy, but he was glad to be able to talk again. There was so much he had to say, and soon. 

He smiled at the thought of her, even of her being angry with him, then realized he was being watched. 

 _Too late._  

“She really is worth the effort, my son. Angry or not, she loves you. Don’t tell her I told you, but I had to force her out of here to sleep a few hours at night for the entire time you were in the tank.” 

“Did she tell you how I got these injuries, Doctor? I mean, really?” 

“I figured it out. I know a droid arm from a Sith chokehold. I don’t know the whole story, and you don’t have to tell me, but given all the covert meetings she’s had with Cipher and Vector, and the pain on her face every time she walked in here and saw you in that tank … I was paid very well for many years to read people, Captain. And she feels safe here, so she hasn’t been too guarded. The two of you have had some falling out, the Sith are somehow part of it, and restoring you to full health and protecting your career are all she cares about right now.” 

“I don’t know if we can be reconciled, Doctor. I forgive her because I made her do what she did.” 

“In my experience with women of quality, Captain, she will forgive you even if it takes some time. The real test will be whether she can forgive herself. She will be angry with you because she fears what she herself has done.” 

A sharp pain seized Quinn’s back. He couldn’t think about how she attacked him without experiencing it all over again. 

“And that’s why I think you need another day in the harness, son.” 

 _No_ , Quinn thought, _that’s why I need absolution._  

“Whatever you say, Doctor. Whatever you say.” 

The medbay doors swooshed open, and a tall, dark man with odd black eyes entered. “We can come back, if this is not a good time.” 

“Captain, you haven’t met our distinguished diplomat yet, have you? Captain Malavai Quinn, may I present Vector Hyllus, Dawn Herald and emissary of the Killik Collective, covert assault operative with the recently deceased Imperial Intelligence, and a few other titles I’m probably missing.” 

Vector walked over and reached out for Quinn’s hand, “We are pleased to meet you, Captain.” 

“Likewise, Emissary.” Quinn had heard about the Killik alliance, and the strange story of the diplomat who made it happen. He had been happy to see them allied with the Empire but uncertain about what liabilities a collective hive mind might present. He had spent hours, in fact, worrying over details of how to manage many different scenarios, diplomatic and otherwise. 

“Please, we prefer it if you would call us Vector.” A nod of the head, a sideways smile … he could see why the man was a success at winning people over. 

“Understood. Vector it is.” Quinn was suddenly uncomfortable. Why had he come here? Had Xhareen sent him? 

“We were hoping you would be able to join us for the evening meal, but we see …” he pointed to the harness holding Quinn to the table. 

“The Doctor won’t release me just yet, I’m afraid.” 

“I’m sorry, Vector. I will see how he responds in the morning, and see if he is able to stand without any undue stress on his spine. Then I can make a better determination.” 

“We see. Well, then, accept our welcome to our ship, however humble it might be, and we hope for better news in the morning.” 

“Thank you, Vector. I cannot express my gratitude to you and your Doctor for all the care I’ve received.” 

“We are happy you are mending, Captain. Your … companion Xhareen is very dear to our Cipher and now to us. She is most concerned about your welfare and we would all see you whole again.” 

“Thank you, again.” 

“Until the morning, then.” And he turned and left the room. 

Quinn sighed, quite exasperated, and slapped the bed with his hand. 

“Everyone’s worried about her being worried.” He knew he sounded petulant, but he didn’t care. 

“No one likes to see love squandered, son. Not over politics at least.” 

“It’s too late for me to agonize about that, Doctor. I killed whatever it was we had the moment I …” He caught himself. He’d just have to let the Doctor rely on whatever story he’d concocted in that spy brain of his. 

“No, you saved it by not dying. And you saved her. She might not realize it yet, but she’ll figure out why she didn’t kill you, I mean, why she really didn’t do it. We both know it would have been easier than doing what she did.” 

“She said she saved me to protect my reputation, and hers.” 

“She could have had you buried with hero’s honors and told whatever tale she wanted. Your spine got damaged because she dragged you some distance to get you to a kolto tank. She must have called in several favors in order to stay off the grid. You played Sith politics, son, and it nearly cost you your life, but you survived. Most others who get caught up in that same game cannot say that.” 

“So you do know what I did?” 

“Not specifically. I’ve been too busy treating you to attend their meetings. But my best guess? You sided with someone else, got caught in the crossfire, literally and figuratively, but she thought you worth saving despite trying to kill you. I can’t tell you how many times I heard her mumbling, ‘I'm so sorry. Please come back to me, Quinn.’ And she’s told me at least once a day that the Empire needs you. From that, it’s not hard to guess that she wants you personally and professionally made whole again.” 

“So she’s told the others?” 

“As far as I know, just Vector and Cipher.” 

So Hyllus knew when he came in here, then. “Dammit all.” 

“If anyone can help you, it’s those two. Cipher is the finest agent I’ve known in many a year, for all that’s worth now. For the present, you need to stay off the radar, and that’s her specialty. Your lord is her oldest friend. Sisters, practically. They survived the orphanages of Dromund Kaas, which explains why they are strong warriors who’ve lasted this long. And precisely why you will not let your woman get away from you.” 

“That sounds like an order, Doctor.” 

“It is, Captain. It is.” 

All he had ever wanted to do was follow orders, or to at least present logical arguments why not within the chain of command. But Broysc and Baras had used his obedience and skills for their own ends, and it had earned him nothing but heartache and despair. 

Whether he followed the doctor’s order or not, Quinn felt as though he’d end up with nothing but regret. No need to push all of that on a stranger, so he simply nodded.  

Dr. Lokin came over and handed him a data pad. “We’re on lockdown to avoid unwanted attention, but you can access a variety of news and entertainment channels. I’ll have a light meal sent in to get you back on solid foods. I’m going to give you some privacy, but just push the comm button here if you require anything.” 

“Thank you, Doctor, for all you’ve done.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Despite feeling exhausted and emotionally spent, Quinn slept poorly. He was afraid to let himself dream, so he focused on going through his normal routine, as if he were still on the ship. Then he realized he had no idea where their ship even was. Or whether its crew was happy or sad that he had pulled through. He vowed if he got command of it again, he would be less rigid and more open, kinder and less cross. Even with Vette. And he’d try with Pierce. 

Eventually he must have dozed off. He was surprised when the automatic lights came on and began to gradually brighten, indicating morning, and surprised again when Dr. Lokin entered the room moments later. He tried to mimic the doctor’s optimism, but was able to abandon the fakery when the doctor sat him upright and he stayed, without much effort or pain. 

“How does that feel, Captain?” 

“I feel lighter. Does that make any sense?” He laughed. “Can I get down off the table?” 

“Wait a moment, I’ll call Vector in case you need help.” 

Quinn groaned. He wanted to like the strange man, but all he could think about was Vector declaring Xhareen was now “dear to him.” 

The doctor seemed to ignore the groan, and pressed a button on the counter. Within a minute or two, Vector appeared. His eyes had changed; they looked human once again. Quinn would have to learn somehow why that was. 

“At your service, Doctor, and Captain.” 

“I’d like you to help Captain Quinn. It’s time we test whether he can stand.”  

“Of course, I am ready to help.” 

Quinn slid down the short distance off the bed, onto his bare feet. He held steady, but then it hit him: Hyllus had called himself “I,” which he hadn’t used during their first encounter. Eyes changed, a sense of individuality, just what was this man? Quinn felt himself getting nervous again and stumbled. 

“Don’t try to walk unless you’re ready, Captain. I don’t want to have to put you back in that tank.” 

“I’d rather go back to Balmorra than into that tank, believe me, doctor.” All three men laughed. Quinn straightened, then attempted a step forward, one foot, then the other. The floor was cold, like a good ship’s deck should be. He was happy to be able to feel that, happy his legs were working. He walked, if slightly jerking between steps, to the counter and turned. 

“Well, that’s better than I had even expected, Captain. You must really want breakfast.” 

“Now that you mention it, Doctor. I am famished.” 

Vector cleared his throat. “If I may interrupt, I was hoping for a few minutes alone, Captain Quinn. I will try not to let you expire from hunger, and undo all the doctor’s good work.” 

“Oh, of course. And please, you can call me Malavai. Doctor, you as well. There’s little need for formality here, I should think.” 

“Well, Malavai, I will leave you and Vector to speak and see what fresh horrors SCORPIO has set out, disguised as food.” 

Quinn wanted to say the doctor could stay. He would gladly unload his burden of guilt to the doctor to avoid facing Hyllus alone. He still didn’t know why; this was hardly the time to explore his emotions toward anything but the situation at hand. 

“The doctor exaggerates. SCORPIO’s cooking has come a very long way.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who this SCORPIO is you’re referring to. A chef you picked up along the way?” 

Vector laughed out loud. “No, SCORPIO is, or hopefully rather, was, a deadly AI tasked initially as a surveillance program, downloaded into a droid’s body. Cipher and our team liberated her from Belsavis. We’ve no idea how old she is … perhaps millennia … perhaps Rakata in origin. Or even older. She volunteered herself to the ship’s service in exchange for experiencing the universe outside of a pit deep inside the planet. Her current fascination is with our nutritional needs.” 

Quinn’s unease in Vector’s presence dropped for a moment at the thought of a killer cyborg frying up flutterplume eggs. “You keep saying ‘I’ now, Vector. And your eyes … I’m just curious. I don’t mean to pry.” 

“I am able to disconnect my thoughts from the hive mind for brief periods. I asked Xhareen for permission to visit with you, privately, to see if you wished to talk. There’s no pressure, and I don’t wish to keep making you uncomfortable or even to keep you from breakfast. But I could tell very early on after the two of you boarded that a diplomat’s services might be required.” 

Something about his soft voice and deft manipulation, and suddenly Quinn was broken. 

“I assume she’s told you everything. And I’m not angry. I’m relieved.” He didn’t want to be the one to rehash it right now. 

“I want to reassure you, Captain, that Xhareen has asked me specifically to call her that. But I will refrain if you ask, because I can sense your unease each time I say it.” 

“My apologies, Vector. I’m just very …” 

“… protective of her. As you should be. And there is nothing to apologize for. No matter what happened, I see two people who care about each other.” 

Quinn stared at his feet. “I know what I feel, and I cannot reconcile that with what I did. I’m at a loss. I’ve never been so in love before, and certainly have no experience with serious, long-term relationships, or Sith relationships. I do seem to have a knack for betrayal, though.” 

Vector placed both of his hands in front of his face, as if in prayer, then continued softly. “You need to forgive. Yourself, Xhareen. I would say even Darth Baras, but perhaps at this point that’s neither feasible nor necessary.” 

Quinn knew that Baras had always harbored no plans to take him back into service even if he had been successful in his mission. There would be no mercy now that she had survived. “That’s a lot to think about, Vector. But thank you, perhaps now I have somewhere to go with all this. Though it does not excuse what I did.” 

“You are clearly a conscientious officer and I will go so far as to say, a good man. You and Xhareen share a deep love for one another, but you are both conflicted about what your duty to the Empire entails. If you were to say to me that you put yourself in harm’s way to try to save her, or help her, I would believe you. 

“But only you know what the truth is, and that is what she needs to hear.” 

Quinn nodded. He wondered how, or if, he’d be able to face what that truth really was. He knew a confrontation was near, and he would have to steel himself for it. 

“I cannot see your aura like this, but I would bet it has brightened considerably, Malavai. If you don’t mind, my next machination will be to get you and Xhareen alone to talk again.” 

“I would appreciate it, Vector. But first, I need to find some suitable clothes. I can’t be seen like this, even at the breakfast table.”

 


	11. An Opportunity is All I Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up just after Chapter 9

He needed to hold on to Vector’s shoulder for a step here and there, but Quinn managed to walk otherwise unaided to the conference room, where Xhareen stood next to a stunningly beautiful woman, tall and leggy with a cosmetic mask painted across her face, through which shone the brightest hazel green eyes. They’d been fashionable last he was on Dromund Kaas, which seemed to be a long time ago now.

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t even realize everyone – the woman, a coppery pink cyborg that had to be this SCORPIO, Dr. Lokin, and another two junior officers were all clapping for him as he walked in. All except Xhareen, who kept her hands folded.

He did his best not to let tears form in his eyes, then laughed as he wiped them away. They could think he was just relieved. Dr. Lokin began introducing him around, then sat him down at the head of the table. Xhareen sat quietly along the side at the opposite end. He looked at her until she looked up at him, and then he smiled. She smiled, too, if slightly and with a corresponding grimace of pain. He knew she couldn’t possibly be over her pain yet, but even the gesture of inclining her head toward him was enough to brighten his spirits.

Quinn in fact felt almost giddy, and laid on charm he hadn’t realized he had. Perhaps it was Vector, wearing off on him. He looked up, and realized Vector’s eyes were black again.

Xhareen barely touched her food, completely out of character for her. Most of the time, she ate more than Pierce, and Quinn always had to go to special lengths to keep adequate supplies in stock. “Force hunger,” she often called it. Or “warrior fuel.”

But she did not seem the warrior now at all. She was solemn, if not sullen. She seemed to be paying most attention to the Doctor, and he to her. Zavaa tossed a biscuit at her and she caught it without turning her head, but then she did, and smiled at her old friend, who winked back.

He wondered what secrets the two had shared all those days he had been in the tank, beyond just his betrayal. He still couldn’t fathom why the agent hadn’t strapped him to a table and tortured him to death, knowing the truth as she did. Vector, he could understand Vector’s forgiveness. The man had a definite streak of Force-like calm to him, and Quinn was over his initial distrust of him.

Too soon, the meal was done. “Vector and I can escort you back to the med bay. There’s a comfortable cot in the corner where you can sleep if it suits you, until you are well enough,” the doctor informed him.

Xhareen heaved her chest slightly, as if bearing a sudden pain. No one else seemed to notice; he had watched her so carefully for so long now, perhaps he was the only one who had seen it.

He was knocked out of his reverie by her voice. “I will walk with you if I may, Captain. Gentlemen?”

“Yes, my lord, of course” he said as he rose, on his own, from his seat. She walked over to him, glanced at him, nearly expressionless, and offered him her arm. He placed his arm around her shoulder instead. “Lead on, my lord,” he said, as they proceeded slowly but steadily to the small room in the aft of the ship.

Quinn could feel his strength returning, but he kept his arm around her shoulder regardless. He was glad she didn't pull away, but she still said nothing. They reached the sickbay. She still had said nothing.

“Xhareen, I wanted to ask you about the crew. Everyone’s OK, yes?” He wasn’t going to let himself forget his promise to be a more receptive commander when he returned to the ship.

Which was precisely when he remembered something else: There were personal data files he absolutely needed to erase, archived files that had no trace to Baras but which would have triggered if his death had been reported. Which, apparently, it had not. If he had any hope of reuniting with her, she mustn’t know what he had left buried in the ship’s archives. If she had seen them, she surely would have said something. Or so he hoped.

“They’re fine. In hiding as we had arranged.” She didn’t say where, and Quinn knew better than to pry, even though he wanted to. To hear her talk, for sure, but also because he was concerned. He'd put the crew at risk, too. He'd spent more time trying to plan what would go down between him and Xhareen, and much less on keeping the crew safe. He was smart, he was careful but he was no puppet master, and he suddenly regretted even pretending to be.

She pulled back as the medbay doors opened, but she did not move to leave. “Just so you know, we weren’t reported dead or alive after the explosion on board the Yaroe Star, but there are some indications Baras thinks we are both dead. I doubt that will last much longer.”

“As long as everyone is safe. On another matter, there are some personal affairs I need to attend to. Would it be possible for me to access my queue in our ship’s systems?”

“I’ll need to check with Zavaa. She has a way we can communicate safely, but it must all be done through her.”

He didn’t want to arouse her suspicions and have her go searching for them, but he also needed to make sure she didn’t think he was hiding anything regarding Baras. He’d been truthful with her the day before, when all he could do type his pain on the datapad. Then he had a thought that might cover him.

“I wrote a last will and testament before … what happened, and I would like to update it, delete it if you think it necessary.”

“Why would that concern me?”

Had she so soon forgotten? Had her pain been so great she dismissed what they had done, together?

He couldn’t hide his dismay. “So you don’t remember that we filed the military marriage documents, or is it that you don’t want to remember anymore?”

He understood. He’d done what he did to a woman he had promised himself to. If he had died, she would have had a valid claim on his holdings, such as they were. He was disinherited from his mother’s estate after Druckenwell, after she formally disowned him. But his father had left him a sizeable inheritance, and he knew enough about Imperial law to know she hadn't had the time to have it transferred away after his father's death.

“I hadn’t thought about it. I wasn’t sure how settled it was, without a ceremony.”

It had been settled to him. Doubt was starting to gnaw at him, threatening his ability to hold down his breakfast.

“I know I’m in no position to ask, but I will beg if I have to. Please let’s not make a decision on our long-term future just yet. I am prepared to give you all the space you need for as long as you need it. And I understand if things must be different between us for the time being.”

She nodded her head. “Just be aware, I don’t know what I want right now.”

He reached to touch her arm. She didn’t pull away. “Of course. I won’t press you on it.”

She moved back out of his reach. “Thank you, Malavai. I should go now.”

“I know we need to talk and there is much I need to say. An opportunity is all I ask. Then you can do with me what you will.”

“I appreciate your understanding.”

“It's the least I can do.”

She pointed to the cot. “You should get some rest. I take it the doctor will have therapy sessions waiting for you. If you need anything, just ask. Zavaa will see to it you are taken care of.”

“Thank you, Xhareen.”

“You're welcome. I will go now.”

He bowed slightly and smiled at her. He could have sworn he saw the corners of her mouth rise just a bit. But she said nothing else, just nodded and left.

He picked up the datapad, and he began searching for Miralukan music files. The exertion and the meal made him tired, so he set the timer and listened to a selection of popular ballads as he drifted off to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Quinn rested for at least an hour and felt refreshed. There was no word from the doctor, and he didn't want to stay here alone any longer. He was getting ready to go back out into the ship, when Zavaa came into the medbay.

“I understand you wish to access your files onboard your ship?”

“I … I … yes,” he stammered. “I explained what it was to Xhareen. Nothing to do with what happened, just things I’d like to attend to in privacy.”

She walked up to him. She was nearly his height, although he could see she was wearing boots with a bit of heel on them. She was slimmer than Xhareen, less muscled, but Quinn was certain she was, in her own manner, as deadly as his Sith.

“You do realize if you do anything else to harm her, you will have to answer to me, Captain.”

He knew what was in his heart, even if this woman and the one he loved did not. But for all his planning and plotting and pathetic attempts to get around Baras’s demands, he had utterly failed in every dimension. And everyone on this ship knew it.

“I know how pathetic this sounds, but I never meant to harm her.”

“As much as I’d like to slap you right now, Captain, I actually believe you. But you also realize that while you might not have harmed her physically, you have broken her spirit and that might just be worse.”

All he could do was nod.

She handed him a datapad unlike any he had seen before. “Do your deleting or whatever it is you need to do. There will be no tracking, so you have your privacy. We have your ship’s systems interfacing with our ship’s bespoke system, which allows this. Xhareen trusts you, so I have to, too.”

Quinn knew the last thing she wanted to do was to trust him, but it was good to hear that Xhareen might be saying something positive about him to someone. His legs were about to give way under him, so he sat on the cot. Zavaa went over to the door and waited.

He punched in the required codes. There was a bit more of a delay than usual, which he attributed to this interface she spoke of. He found the two files, which he had masked as music files, and after a deep breath in and out, hit the Delete button.

And with that, his miserable attempt at a pre-recorded confession was no more.

He stared at the blank screen for a few seconds at most when Zavaa walked over and put her hand out. He gave her the device, then stood up. “I would like to be of some use to you while I’m here. Is there some way I can be of service?”

“Hmm. I hear you’re quite the pilot. My go-to officer is on an extended mission, and neither of the junior officers we’re harboring are certified to fly. Care to sit in the chair for a while?”

He smiled. “I would be honored, although I confess, I’ve never flown a vessel in civilian garb before.” Depending on how things went with Xhareen, that might be his fate, he thought.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I had the fabricators repair your uniform, Captain. I’ll have it sent in straightaway.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**Back on the Covenant**

 

Vette watched as the comm panel lit up. “Maintenance Interface PH” the screen read, the code she’d set up for connection with the Phantom. Two files were accessed and deleted. Xhareen and Zavaa had told her that there’d be no record of file transactions, for security purposes. But Vette had taken that to mean no copies on the Phantom’s end, so she didn’t bother to tell either of them that her own setup would keep a copy. She hated to be so distrusting, but Xhareen had been so weird about checking Quinn’s files for Baras’s interference, and Vette had been so bored, she decided to rewrite the security protocols.

So. Two files accessed and deleted. She couldn’t tell right away where they had come from, but she’d be able to check on them later. No time now.

Because she was already half suited up for another trip into the shipyard. How else was a girl supposed to keep from going mad with boredom? Yep, the files could wait. If it were something important, surely Xhareen would have told her.


	12. Secrets, Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the next morning

Xhareen wasn’t used to this much inactivity, so the next morning, she went to the Fury’s cargo bay to work out. The ship had a small room with training equipment, but not enough space for Xhareen to walk through her forms, much less do any saber work. And Quinn was probably there, doing the rehabilitation exercises Dr. Lokin had given him.

She was surprised to find Dr. Lokin sitting at a workbench, a portable computer, a robot arm and some medical equipment on the work surface.

“My dear! Just finishing up a side project at the work table here. I was actually just coming to find you. There’s a matter I wish to discuss with you in private.”

He motioned to another stool at the bench and Xhareen sat down.

~~~~~~

“Cipher, we miss you.”

Vector peered through the open doors into the conference room, where Zavaa was working.

“Vector, I’m sorry. There’s just so much to sort through. I never realized.”

“Indeed, we didn’t think we would be able to find you under all these machines.” She had rigged up two monitors and a power station around the Black Codex and had a stack of datapads, including a large touchpad for inputting by hand. “We are a bit jealous. If you wish your consciousness to be absorbed, we’d rather you join the Hive, not the Holonet.”

One of the first ways they had connected, and one of the first ways Vector felt pulled back toward his human roots, was through humor. As cold and as analytical as those green eyes could be, she rarely saw it coming. Vector never teased, nor used it as a way to punish her. They both simply delighted in word play long before they ever got around to foreplay. He wasn’t given toward jokes of the practical type, but if he were, she’d be an easy target.

“Would you come after me, if I did upload myself?”

“We would follow you anywhere, Zavaa. You know this. We’d love to follow you back to our quarters first, however.”

She tapped the touchpad one last time, then without a word, began to power down and disconnect everything. The strain between her friend Xhareen and Captain Quinn was beginning to wear on Vector. He hadn’t offered to talk to either one privately for the time being because he needed the reassurance of a trillion minds, connected and, for the most part, in harmony. And with Zavaa spending all her waking hours in here, even that was starting to feel insufficient. The two of them had bonded in a way that pheromones and sex couldn’t compete with, and he had known for some time that he required it.

“I suppose that can be arranged. Help me stow these things in the footlocker over there.”

“Well, if we had known it would be this easy to seduce you away from your investigations, we would have come begging sooner.”

“Oh Vector, you never have to beg,” she said as she set the lock.

“We’ll hold you to that.”

“No, you’ll hold me to yourself for as long as you need, my love.”

~~~~~~

Jaesa scanned the comm line again, for the third time in 10 minutes. Vette should have reported in 9 minutes ago from her latest forage into the spaceyard. Not that she was never late; scrounging through wreckage and devastation seemed to be the one thing that kept her mind entirely occupied. And she’d come back with some interesting finds at least.

But Jaesa had a bad feeling about this trip. She knew they were all bored and antsy and at risk of getting careless, Vette being no exception. She knew Xhareen had arranged some sort of communications security for them, but still was unwilling to let them navigate the short hyperspace jump to Corellian space just yet. Jaesa had asked several times to talk to Quinn, but Xhareen had brushed her off, saying he was fine but busy or asleep or getting treatment. Something was going on there, but there was no getting a good read on her master under these conditions.

The comm crackled once, and twice, and then Vette’s voice came through. “Uh oh.”

Jaesa punched the button so hard she jammed her finger. “What’s wrong?”

“Get the docking bay door opened. I’m coming in hot! And have Pierce waiting with a containment unit and his big old gun. And Broonie with his big stick, too. Just in case.”

The channel went dead but Jaesa went into action. There’d be time to ask questions later. She did remember, however, to hit the code to alert Xhareen before wondering why she had ever sought a life of contentment.

~~~~~~

Xhareen stumbled out of the cargo room, feeling like she’d run a dozen kilometers and fought a dozen opponents in close-quarter drills, when all she’d done is step down off a stool and successfully manage to not throw up on Dr. Lokin’s boots.

She didn’t like to overdo the caff, but she needed another cup and now. She made it to the galley without encountering anyone, no small feat on a ship this size. The ship’s droid (she’d long since learned not to even use that word around SCORPIO) prepared a cup for her. As soon as it was cool enough, she slammed it like a sarlacc kicker and asked for a second.

She took a little more time with the second cup, and it did manage to calm her. And steel her nerves. Because after her talk with Dr. Lokin, the thing she didn’t want to do could no longer be avoided. She had to face her greatest fear, and her greatest shame. She had to get that One Big Question answered before the sunset over Kaas City was chimed off by the ship’s computers once again.

She was glad for the liquid resolve, too, because when she stepped out of the kitchen area, there was Quinn, in full uniform, coming in to the galley.

She walked up to him and said the words.

“Quinn, we need to talk.”


	13. Interlude: We Need to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much can happen in a moment of time

_"Quinn, we need to talk."_

Those were the words I dreaded to hear, but I knew she was right. I had messed things up between us, probably forever, and I could not rely on her pitying me for these injuries any longer. How stupid was I, to ruin things with the one person, the first person ever, who would understand that I blame myself for what she did to me? I asked for it. I wanted it.

  
Or did I? Did I want her to take me out with a graceful twirl of her red blades? Did I want us both to go out in a blaze of detonite once I saw what Baras had one of his other lackeys place in those droids? Or did I want her to see through the angst and the pain I carried those last days on Voss, after Baras contacted me and forced my hand? Did I expect her to save me? No, I knew Baras wasn't going to let me survive regardless. I thought maybe he'd spare my family, more out of spite to her than anything else. I certainly didn't deserve his mercy. I'd been given all these months with her after he was done with me on Balmorra, months many of his other pawns were not given.

  
Did I want her to figure out that my horrid speech was meant to anger her? I don't know anymore. I see how angry and hurt she is now, because of me. I tell myself I warned her that, if we were to get involved, then one of us being compromised was certain to happen. I know the game of Sith. I played along. I pushed away all the doubts about many of Baras's requests over the years. I trusted him. He was strong. Sith need to be strong. I have followed their stories and their exploits and monitored their doings my whole life. I probably know them better than many of them know themselves.

  
Until she came along, that is.

  
Dr. Lokin has adjusted my stims such that I am actually more clear-headed than I've been in months. I'm certain he told Xhareen about them, so she knows I was self-medicating all this time, trying to hide my weakness. The good doctor tells me this new formulation should help keep those debilitating thoughts and worries at bay, though he also recommended a counselor. I'm not sure I could compromise myself in such a manner, but I tell him I will consider it.

  
But that is the future. I am here, now, on someone else’s ship, and she is standing before me, hands crossed in front of her, all serious and in control. I have watched her evolve from a naive brawler into a deadly leader but I will not back down, no matter how terrified I am of what she is going to say next. I will clear my throat and I will answer her questions and I will speak my mind.

_"Yes, we do."_

 

~~~~~~

  
_"Quinn, we need to talk."_

I can't believe those words are coming out of my mouth. I sound like some holo-serial or those cheap flimsi novels Vette keeps forcing me to read. Alright, I read a few of them willingly, especially in those early months when this maddening man in front of me refused to acknowledge his feelings for me and I would storm off to my cabin, not knowing how to keep myself busy otherwise. I should have listened to him, though. Should have understood that his stalled career meant more to him than I did.

  
Was I punishing him for that when I hurled him across that transponder room? Did I for one minute believe his twaddle about Baras being better for the Empire than our Emperor? And yet, I know why he felt he had to do as Baras asked. That despite the thousands I've slain, despite the warfires I ignited, despite killing two Dark Council members and thwarting Baras at every turn up until now, he has come to one conclusion:

  
I cannot win. Or perhaps, I should not win.

  
Is it me? Am I weak in his eyes, or is it that he cannot believe that someone powerful enough to defeat Baras could actually love him?

  
Quinn might doubt me, but he doubts himself more, of that I am certain. I took him out of his safe, gray life on Balmorra and tossed him into the bloody cesspit of Sith politics. He prospered, and I was fooled. I watched this man walk right up to a Separatist and shoot him in the face. I watched him assassinate a moff. I watched him patch up my wounds, fly my ship, order my crew's supplies and cook me dinner in his cabin on a portafire. I've watched his face in pleasure and in pain.

  
I promised I would restore his career and perhaps he thought the only way to achieve that was if Baras granted him another promotion for taking me out. I believe him when he says Baras threatened his family, or some greater harm on me, if he didn't give in and do the deed himself. Perhaps he thought we both deserved to be punished with such dramatic flair, given how brightly our passion burned in those short months we were together.

  
Here he is now, standing before me like a chastised schoolboy and my heart could not be broken into any more pieces. But he looks calm and resolved and this must happen, so I will not be surprised by the directness in his voice.

_"Yes, we do."_


	14. A Matter Most Private

Quinn walked into the conference room before Xhareen, heading to the far side of the long, oval table where Zavaa had first revealed her magic spy box that granted her all kinds of powers, dangerous powers. Powers that had kept Xhareen’s ship safe, so far anyway. But no magic box, no matter how sophisticated its technology, was going to make this meeting any easier. 

He sat with the chair pushed back slightly from the table, his back rigid and his hands folded in his lap. It reminded her of how he had been during his court-martial, bruised from repeated beatings. No high-tech kolto tank to repair him. Wearing dirty, bloodied prison garb rather than his impeccably mended Imperial uniform. 

A stranger might think he was being the obedient, subordinate soldier, but Xhareen knew better. She knew this man too well not to recognize his attempt, conscious or not, to control the situation. Even now, she admired the many ways he had of being infuriating. Anyone who saw Quinn as boring did not know him at all. 

So if he wanted drama, she would give it to him. She remained standing on the opposite side of the table, arms folded across her chest, her weight balanced on her back foot.

“I watched all the holo recordings of your court-martial.”

He cocked his head and looked up at her. “Here? On the _Phantom_?”

She shook her head.

“Oh. I never knew.” His voice dropped. “You never told me.”

“We discussed it one time, and it never seemed relevant after that.”

“But is it now? Are you going to have me stand trial?”

She dropped her guarded stance. “Absolutely not. This is, as far as I’m concerned, a personal matter.”

“Then why bring up my court martial?”

“I will ask the questions, Captain.” She knew this would make him squirm, just as she could feel her resolve waning. How much easier it was to strike at an opponent with a lighted saber. How much easier to fall into his arms and grant him forgiveness. But until Baras was brought down, their relationship was in peril, and desperate measures were called for. 

“Apologies, my lord.” 

“As I said, I watched all the holos of your trial, and watched or read transcripts of all the interrogations. What you never mentioned was that you were under a death sentence, and then, against all odds, your plea for an appeal was granted.”

Quinn shuddered, and took a moment with his reply. “As you said, it didn’t seem relevant at the time.”

“No, no. I don’t suppose it was. Do you remember what I said to you about Druckenwell? How I said that if Broysc’s punishment was what made you as exacting and dedicated as you are, that you should have thanked him? And you said that was a startling revelation, and seemed pleased with my insight?”

“It helped me more than you can know.”

“Well, I’m beginning to think it was the cruelest thing I have ever said or done.”

He looked right at her, his mouth open. Finally, he spoke. “Why?”

“Because it allowed you to hide behind a curtain of duty. Hide what happened to you, lie to yourself about how you were or weren’t processing it.”

“By that point, there was nothing I could do about the past. Except, as you know, take care of Broysc once and for all.”

_Except you did do something about it, every time you injected yourself with a stim._ But she wasn’t going to bring that up. She couldn’t. All she wanted was to forgive him, get over this and get back to her ship and make plans to kill Baras as soon as possible. But no matter how much she wanted this awful thing that had happened to go away, she knew they had a lot to air out first. 

What had happened to him because of Druckenwell wasn’t his fault, but he had to stand trial of sorts about what he’d done on the _Yaroe Star._ And being his judge was the responsibility she bore for having been his lover betrayed. 

“I admire you. I admire your strength, your perseverance. I admire you for not dying. Then or now.”

Quinn shuffled his hands in his lap. The carefully balanced epaulets on his shoulders dropped slightly. 

“I have to admit, this is not how I thought this conversation would proceed.”

She moved up and steadied herself on the back of a chair. “What do I know? I’ve never had to have a talk like this.” 

A tear crept up to the edge of his eye and escaped. “You spared me, when you could have killed me. You saved me, when you could have let me die. I love you, but I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s bantha shit and you know it. Do you really have so little faith in me? After all we’ve been through together? Did you just stay with me after Quesh to spy on me for Baras?”

Quinn stood up, knocking the chair back behind him. “No! I told you after the cave in, Baras discarded me once I joined your crew.”

“Then why didn’t he kill you? He’s killed so many of his discarded agents, as you well know.”

He leaned forward and steadied himself on the table, his head bowed. Another tear fell, this time onto the table top. 

“I’m sure he expected I would get involved with you and be compromised by my feelings, that he’d be able to blackmail me into doing whatever he wanted.”

Baras had no knowledge of love and attraction except as a strategy to use against others. She hated giving him so much credit, but he had seen Xhareen flirt openly with Quinn on Balmorra on more than one occasion. He certainly would have filed such information away. 

“And you let him.”

“He said he’d torture you, shame my family, kill them. It would be my fault. You have no idea how those words hurt me.”

“Why didn’t you come to me? We could have figured something out. No, instead you fell right into his trap. You wanted him to hurt you. You wanted to be right when you said all those months ago that getting involved with me would … “

Quinn slammed his fist onto the table. “No! Face it, Xhareen. You’re not ready to confront Baras. You can’t defeat him.”

She had never seen his face so red, large splotches expanding and stretching up into his hairline. He had never, before now, raised his voice to her. Was he looking for her to get angry enough to attack him again, finish him off?

Xhareen took a breath to dull the edge of her rage. Her skin was starting to crackle with Force energy. She had to stay in control. She gripped the back of the chair so hard she pierced the synthleather. “Perhaps you are right, but your answer was to kill me?”

He looked right at her now, standing up straight, reaching for the self-restraint he had always valued. His face had calmed, but his eyes were still rimmed in red. “If you fight him now, you will die. If he kills you, you will be forgotten.”

“I ask you again: Your answer to that was to kill me instead?”

He threw his hands up. “At least he wouldn’t get credit. He couldn’t erase your name. The Empire wouldn’t have forgotten you. I wasn’t about to let that happen. You had at least an even chance of beating those droids, and that wasn’t factoring in the level of rage I had roused in you. I figured if you prevailed, my sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain. Maybe you’d keep being angry enough, and that would give you some edge against him.”

Now it was her turn to regain control, but with her legs about to give way, she had to sit down first. “You have an odd notion of the purpose of a life.”

Quinn turned around and picked up the fallen chair. He sat down, back to his previous interrogation position. “I am assuming since you mentioned the fallout from my court-martial, and all the access you have had to Dr. Lokin, that he told you about the blood tests. I beg of you, do not think I am going to use any of that as an excuse for what I did. Ever.”

“Then tell me, right here, right now: Do you hate your life so much that you thought you would just check out of the game and leave me to play it, alone? That was your plan? That I kill you?”

“That’s the pawn’s job. To be sacrificed.”

She stood up and walked over to him. He rose to meet her, his hands extended. But she wasn’t coming to comfort him. He didn’t even blink when her hand connected with his cheek. 

“You’re not a pawn, Quinn. You never were, and once you joined my crew, you were so much more. You earned it. I didn’t make you anything you weren’t already.” She looked down at her hand. So many serious battle wounds, but nothing ever pained her like this. 

She backed up and he moved to close the gap, but she waved him off. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s driving me to hurt you.”

“It’s not hyperspace physics, Xhareen. I hurt you.”

Her visor was starting to pinch and she’d have an epic headache soon enough. She moved to the back of the room and, with her back to him, removed her visor, sitting on the far end of the table. She carried her tribal wraps with her almost all the time, and was thankful today was no different. He’d seen her so many times without anything covering the flat surface of her eyeless upper face. He’d kissed her there, often, knowing how it aroused her. 

But right now, staying covered was her only defense. She tied the thong behind her pulled up hair and turned around, facing him with a curtain of animal hide and beading to protect her. 

“I’m angry, and I’m in pain and I can’t tell which is which. You have no idea how your lack of faith in me has wrecked me. Fighting in that cargo bay didn’t kill me. It’s your lack of faith in me that’s done me in.

“I don’t even care about Baras. He’s a monster and a fool. Whatever power he had is waning and he is losing control. You were in an emotionally compromised position and you gave into him. That I can forgive, if you ask me to. 

“But hiding what you were going through from me? It’s no different than questioning my orders. You have always questioned my judgment and my ability to lead. Honestly, I’m such a loser to you, how can you possibly even begin to love me?”

“When I first came onto the ship, you couldn’t even keep enough ration bars in stock. You couldn’t properly attend to your own physical needs. The ship’s stores were a mess, for what little was in there. Everyone you took on as crew was undisciplined and not trained nearly enough to support your missions safely. Yes, I was quite judgmental at first. Provoking you made you resolute. You grew into the leader the crew needed. That I needed.

“And somewhere along the way, I knew we’d fall in love. That terrified me, but we were so good together, how could I resist?”

“But I’m no match for Baras, is what you’re saying.”

“He’s a Dark Council member.”

“I know, I put him there.”

“Regardless, he’s very powerful. He has agents and spies and people he’s blackmailing all over the galaxy, as many in the Republic as in the Empire. There would be nowhere we could have run from him.”

“Why in the galaxy would you expect me to run from him? I’m working with the Hand because they are helping me peel away the layers of the onion and I guarantee you, there are only a finite number of them. Once we’re done, there will be nothing left. I’ve met every challenge he’s thrown at me, including surviving your treachery.”

There could be no doubt, Quinn’s gambit had set back the long-term operation. Xhareen had killed Baras’s sister, then freed the Emperor’s true Voice. The Hand had hinted that another key layer would be made manifest on Corellia, if only she could get there. Her former master must be getting desperate, if he resorted to threatening and blackmailing her lover and closest ally. 

Quinn threw up his hands in resignation. “I wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. I hate admitting that. It sounds like I’m making an excuse and I don’t want to do that.”

“All I want is the truth. You don’t need to hang labels on what happened. Just please tell me, please. Why did you do it?”

“I am honestly afraid Baras will prevail somehow and kill you. Especially if I am around to be used.” He put his hand up to cover his eyes and turned away. 

“I’m not letting you off the hook, Malavai. I’m not running away. I could use Zavaa’s resources and hide but I refuse to do that, ever. So tell me, my answer man, knowing that I will not be deterred, what should I do next?”

She knew he couldn’t resist a problem to analyze, and when he laughed, she knew he knew what she was doing, too. 

He turned back around, and a smile briefly graced his face. “You can’t beat Baras, my love, because there’s something missing. I have no idea what it might be. It’s like you have the finest blaster ever produced, but it’s not yet charged. No amount of engineering or shooting skill can prevail without power.”

“I’m never going to get any power until he’s gone.”

“An ally then. A strong Sith. Another Dark Council member. Someone more tangible than Servant One or, Maker forbid, Servant Two.”

Quinn disrespecting a Sith was unnerving, but also incredibly funny. She began to laugh.  
“See? All you have to do is put that brain of yours to work.”

“If only things weren’t so complicated.” He crossed the room toward her again. 

“You mean emotional?”

He nodded. “So bloody emotional.”

He walked up to her and then, as he had done so many months ago it seemed like another lifetime, he got on one knee.

“I accept full responsibility for my actions. I should have trusted you. I should have respected your feelings and trusted your judgment. All I can do is ask you to forgive me, and to promise to do better going forward.”

She got the words “I forgive you …” out before SCORPIO’s voice came over the intercom.

“Sith. You are needed on the bridge. There is an emergency.”

“The ship” they both said, before bolting into action. 

Xhareen ran back to get her visor and clicked it into place as she moved out. Quinn fell in behind her as they made their way to the bridge. 

Duty called, and a new battle loomed just a few meters away. She couldn’t say all was well between them, but this had been a start.


	15. Under Pressure

Jaesa stood inside the _Covenant’s_ airlock as Vette slowly opened the containment unit. Pierce stood ready with a blaster in each hand. Broonmark had crowded in, too, with his electrostaff humming and ready for mayhem.

Vette opened the lid just a crack. Jaesa had already begun forming a ball of yellow light in her mind, which quickly manifest itself into reality. Then, using the Force, she let it go in the direction of the probe or whatever the mechanical device was that had followed Vette onto the ship.

What came back to her was confusing: The device wasn’t purely mechanics and electronics, but it didn’t have sentience, either. Its energy didn’t read like a holocron and it certainly wasn’t natural. It was responding to the Force, though, in a way Jaesa had no prior knowledge of. It wasn’t like anything they’d encountered on Belsavis, but it wasn’t unlike that, either.

She took a deep breath and then told Vette to close the lid. “We should get back to the bridge. I hit the panic button and I know Xhareen is already trying to contact us.”

“Broonmark and I will stay here with the thing,” Pierce said. “Any shenanigans, and I’m tossing a grenade in the canister and sending it out the airlock.”

“Yeah, OK. It’s creeping me out still,” Vette said. “The thing was following me. When I tried to get away, it came at me full speed, so I hit jets and headed back here. I don’t think it has weapons but I don’t want to find out, either.”

~~~~~~

After the fourth unreturned hail, Xhareen panicked, if only a bit. Zavaa came running onto the bridge with the Black Codex and connected it to the main comm panel. Quinn watched with a mix of amazement and envy on his face as she worked.

The device displayed an image of the _Covenant_ , fully intact. All life signs on board confirmed as optimal, although when Zavaa noted that one datastream was a bit confusing, Quinn said, “That would be Broonmark,” and he and Xhareen laughed.

Vette, breathless and wearing half of an EVA suit, came over the holo soon after.

“We’re all OK, but we have a strange visitor on the ship. Some kind of probe droid. We think.”

“Vette, we need to get a look at it,” Xhareen said.

“We’ve got it in a containment unit in the airlock, Master,” Jaesa said as she moved up closer to the holo unit. “I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t think this is Baras’s work. It’s unlike any tech any of us have ever seen or measured and, this is kind of disturbing, but I think it’s sensitive to the Force.”

Xhareen wasn’t sure whether to feel better or worse about that pronouncement. “How did it get on the ship? Tell me the truth, Vette.”

“Yeah, OK. I’m busted. I was scrounging around the shipyard and it started following me. When I couldn’t shake it, I flew back. We got it into the contain …”

“Wait,” Jaesa interrupted. “I sense a presence. Not on the ship. We’re not alone here.”

The coincidence was too much to overlook. Whoever or whatever was stalking her ship was now making its move. Maybe it just wanted its property back. Or more likely, something far more sinister was afoot.

Xhareen knew that staying hidden from Baras or any of his spies was critical, but if there had to be a fight, she wanted to be there with her people. She wasn’t going to let Baras murder them when they were a short hyperspace jump away. “Vette, jettison that device and get the ship to Corellian space right away.”

Quinn, who had been standing over by the instrument panel, reading the _Phantom’s_ displays, sprung toward the holo. “Vette, belay that order!”

“Quinn, explain yourself immediately!”

“Commander,” he turned and, ignoring Xhareen, addressed Zavaa directly, and pointed toward the Black Codex. “If we can rig a remote reader, can your device perform a more detailed scan on the probe? The vessel approaching the _Covenant_ is too unsophisticated to have sent it and is more than likely some rogue salvaging crew.”

“But Quinn, someone on that ship is Force sensitive. I can feel it,” Jaesa said.

Xhareen moved up next to Quinn, fighting the urge to push him aside. “Can you sense their intentions, Jaesa?”

She shook her head. “I don’t sense overt hostility but that’s the extent of what I know. I’m sorry, Master.”

Quinn sat down in the navigator’s seat and began working the panel like he’d been running this vessel for months. Xhareen knew Zavaa had given him access just the day before. “Their signal is civilian but unregistered, which is common along the far reaches of Republic space and in the Outer Rim,” he said after a few dozen key taps.

“So what? Still a good way to hide ill intent.”

“Pardon me, my lord, but the first rule of espionage would be to blend in. If the ship bore some out of date commercial code, that might be the case. Baras would certainly have access to legitimate ships with unassailable codes, too. Also, why merely surveil his own ship if he’s tried twice now to kill you?

“No, there’s a 97.6 percent chance that this ship is a scavenger vehicle and it did not deploy the device Vette found. Factoring in Jaesa’s input, I would say they know of the device’s uniqueness and are looking to salvage it.” 

For a fraction of a second, Xhareen wanted to factor her hand across his face again. But he wasn’t trying to make her look bad; she would look worse if she resorted to pettiness.

“Yes, well, this is all conjecture until they make a move,” Xhareen said.

“Hey, guys?” It was Vette. “What if I just try moving the ship? Keep our distance, fly casual or something?”

“Can you move the ship toward a path that would get you out of the shipyards quickly and into hyperspace?” Xhareen asked.

“Not really. That’s why we hid here. It’s way off the beaten path. And you’d get pretty beaten trying to haul butt through this place.”

“Is there another large fixture in the yards? Some large chunk of debris you could navigate to?”

Quinn began to nod slowly at Xhareen’s suggestion. “Cat and mouse. See if they follow.”

 “I’m on it,” Vette said.

SCORPIO soon provided a heads up display of the Covenant and the area around it. Quinn turned to Xhareen, looking like a child about to ask for the latest toy. He really was in his element, she thought.

Vette soon found another docking pylon, fortunately closer to the edge of the debris field than their previous position. “Perfect,” Quinn deemed it.

Now all they could do was wait.

Every half minute or so, SCORPIO’s display grew larger. It wasn’t long until the other ship came into view.

“Quinn.” Xhareen said as soon as she saw it.

“Give me a moment, my lord.” Clearly, he was unable to identify the type of ship by sight, which Xhareen thought surprising.

“Captain, allow me to assist,” Zavaa said.

She went to sit in the other nav chair. Within two minutes, and after comparing notes with Zavaa, Quinn declared it the oddest ship he’d ever seen. “I count at least twelve parts of the ship with different designations, and that’s just the hull.”

Without warning, Vette dropped the ship downward, turned it 45 degrees, then nosed it down sharply again. SCORPIO’s display couldn’t keep up, and so went dark for an agonizing few moments.

“My lord, should I try to …”

“Keep radio silence, Quinn. I know what she’s doing.”

The display crackled back to life, and showed the ship clear of the debris. Vette turned the vessel 180 degrees, and waited. She performed a similar dance of moves two more times, each time going off sensors for what felt like a billion agonizing minutes.

“OK, I found an actual way out. Let’s see if our friends follow,” she finally said.

Sure enough, the vagabond vessel came on screen five minutes later, although it had exited the debris field surrounding the old shipyard along a different path. It kept back, though, and approached no closer.

“We have one advantage, people, and I aim to take it,” Xhareen announced. “Vette, stay off comms. SCORPIO, can you hail that other vessel?”

“Already working on it, Sith. Also, I detect no transmissions have been sent by that vessel for some time.”

“Can you modify Lord Xhareen’s voice and appearance over the holo?” Quinn asked.

“Simple. What other inferior life form would you like to appear as?”

Xhareen laughed. Quinn had beaten her to her own plan. “They’re chasing a Sith vessel. Make me a large, male Pureblood.”

“Of course. Obvious choice.”

That’s what she was counting on. When the screen cleared after several attempts from the other vessel to block the transmission, a Bothan, a Gamorrean and a shaggy-haired male human in dented Republic body armor appeared on screen.

It was like the start of a bad cantina joke. “Unknown vessel. Identify yourselves and your mission, immediately,” Xhareen demanded.

The human stepped up to the holoprojector. Xhareen could tell from his bearing he had at least some Jedi training, and must have been the source of Force energy Jaesa had sensed.

“Sith,” he said, then spit. “It figures.”

“Why are you pursuing my vessel, scum?” Xhareen tried to sound menacing, hoping SCORPIO’s modulators were picking up the genuine anger and disgust in her own voice.

“You have something of mine, buddy.” The Gamorrean poked the Bothan and snorted.

“Oh, you mean this stray dog that showed up at my doorstep? He seemed homeless to me.”

“Yep. All I want is to get back my little pet, then you can go off and do whatever perverted Sith things you were doing to that cute little Twi’lek before we showed up and ruined your vacation. I’m sure your ugly snake of a wife misses you.”

So they’d been stalking the Covenant long enough to spot Vette in the ruins, Xhareen realized. But they only made their presence known after the probe had been recovered. Quinn must have realized what that meant as Xhareen did, because he made his way around the holo without being seen, and went over and whispered to SCORPIO, who began furiously working the console.

“Figures sex is all a failed Jedi has on his mind. Is this some sort of pleasure droid that got away?”

“I bet you’d like that, Sith,” the Bothan, clearly male, said in an accent far more refined than Xhareen had expected.

Xhareen laughed, hoping SCORPIO’s transmutation made her look suitably amused. “So, what do we have here? A failed Jedi, the one who seduced him from the Order, and their pet puffer pig?

“Tell me before I blast you into the next galaxy, what is this thing on my ship and, more importantly, what will you pay me for it?”

On cue, Vette fired up the ship’s guns into the ready position.

“Wow, the Sith must be desperate if your Maker-forsaken race has taken up scavenging to support the war you started,” the human said, comically unaware he was addressing the very Sith who had re-ignited the war on her former master’s orders. “How about this: You return my property and I forget you were here next time I see a Republic vessel.”

“I don’t want this thing, but I’m not going to just give it away. Give me a minute to consult with my crew, and get your credsticks ready.”

The holo went dead. “Get my ship on the comms,” she said to no one in particular. SCORPIO nodded to Quinn, who came back to the nav panel and re-opened the comm to the Covenant.

“Vette, we’re going to give that thing to our new friends.”

Jaesa stepped into view. “Master, shouldn’t we at least try to figure out what this tech is first?”

“There’s no time. They clearly know it’s unusual and valuable, even if Quinn thinks they have no idea what it really is. If it’s tracking us, we can let them play with it while you beat it out of there.”

Quinn cleared his throat. “Might I suggest a course of action, my lord?”

Xhareen motioned for him to continue.

“It will require Lt. Pierce’s special skills.”

“Vette, get Pierce to the bridge.”


	16. Doubt Can Be Deadly

Xhareen nodded, and SCORPIO opened the channel again.

“I have no need for pleasure bots on board my vessel, but clearly, your pet pig needs his chew toy. So we’ll sell you the scrap if you process this transfer and let us leave with no further bother.”

“Yeah, like I trust a Sith. I want that thing sent out, as is. Not locked in anything, no special surprises attached, you know, silly stuff like that.”

“Jedi, this thing is going to be enough trouble all on its own. I’m sure you have no idea what you’re playing with here.”

“All I care about are the credits I’m going to get for it, Sith. Your finder’s fee is a pittance. Someone will want that thing and they can deal with the mess.”

“Right, you have enough to do cleaning up after a ship-bound pig, I get it.” At that, the Gamorrean began riffing a string of Huttese curses. “Nice trick, teaching it to talk, Jedi.”

The human told his comrade to shut up, adding in broken Huttese that he could complain after they divided up the credits. Beads of sweat had started to show along his brow; Xhareen realized her ship could easily outgun and outrun his abomination of a vessel, and he knew it, too. He was suspicious that the big bad Sith was giving up the goods this easily, but he’d backed himself into a corner and had to let the little game play out.

“Just give me the probe, Sith. Here’s how it’s going to go down … ”

 

~~~~~~

Pierce got into his pressure suit and grabbed the probe as Broonmark opened the containment unit’s cover. Broonmark left the airlock, switched off the atmosphere, and opened the outer door. Pierce turned on the suit’s jet and navigated to a place about a half a kilometer in front of the _Covenant_. Then he gave the probe a hearty push and watched it drift.

The Bothan, by the look of the suited being coming toward him, used a pair of grapplers and captured the probe. He then scanned it and without any other acknowledgement, jetted back to his own ship.

Pierce allowed himself a laugh. No way they’d find the little surprise waiting for them. Bloody Quinn might take credit for the idea, but he’d still be trying to figure out the optimal method for opening the package of detonite string safely long after Pierce had it and its attached canister hidden inside the droid’s carapace. His oversized mitts might not be pawing a Sith lord at night, but they were faster at rigging an enemy’s demise than Quinn’s well-manicured hands any day.

He watched until the Bothan got back inside his ship, then tapped the timer on his wrist band and headed for the _Covenant_. He climbed up next to the hatch, but didn’t go inside.

~~~~~~

Back on the Phantom, Xhareen waited for SCORPIO to announce the data stream was being received before she took another breath. Then, Quinn informed them that the credits had been transferred to one of Xhareen’s Ylesian accounts. Pierce checked in once he was safely away from the other vessel, and Vette said they had less than three minutes before the probe would deploy its little surprise.

When she’d explained what Quinn devised to Vette, her lekku started to twitch. “Really? Is all that necessary? Can we just disable the thing and make haste for the other side of the galaxy?”

“Vette, I’m not running, and I’m not taking any chances on them being able to report to anyone. We get whatever telemetry SCORPIO can pick up from the droid before the detonite string explodes and our three friends choke on their new plaything.”

The formine gas had been Quinn’s idea. Xhareen had no clue there had even been a stock of the rare, highly regulated substance on the ship, but she knew if something could be bought or requisitioned, Quinn would know how to get his hands on it. Once exposed to most breathable atmospheres, it became a quick-killing toxin, generally used to clear a landing zone of unwanted fauna. Then it dispersed quickly.

The detonite explosion would crack open the droid and the gas canister, and if all went well, deactivate the probe. The poor slugs inside the scavenger’s ship wouldn’t know what hit them.

Xhareen stood silently behind Quinn as he and Pierce put the plan together in less than five minutes.

It was as though the two men forgot, briefly, their dislike of each other. Quinn clearly knew every piece of ordnance on the ship and how long it would take an expert like Pierce to rig up what he had in mind. Pierce was even smiling; he’d never admit it, but he knew Quinn’s plan was sound, and that he was capable of carrying it out. And he’d suggested the _coup de grace_ , which Xhareen and Quinn agreed on, so he would have something to crow about later as well.

Zavaa came up and hugged Xhareen. “Now we know, if you ever get out of the Sith business, you have a career in holovid acting ahead of you!”

Quinn walked up to Xhareen, beaming as well. He went to hug her right as Vette and Jaesa came back into the holo’s view and she ducked away. “OK, Master. Pierce is getting ready to head back to their ship.”

“Keep your finger on the trigger, ladies. Do whatever it takes to get Pierce back safely.”

Xhareen had been momentarily worried when Pierce suggested he go back to the scavenger vessel and retrieve whatever was left of the probe. But that was his specialty: busting holes in things and making his way inside.

Still, she was glad when Pierce came over the comm. “I’m inside, m’lord. What a dump. Lucky if I don’t break a leg climbing all over this crap.

“OK, on the bridge, such as it is. There’s three bodies, that’s it. Looking for the droid remai…”

The comm crackled after what sounded like blaster fire.

“Pierce!” Xhareen screamed.

Quinn put his hand on her shoulder and she shook him off. “Vette, take the _Covenant_ as close as you can, weapons hot,” he ordered.

After no more than 30 seconds, Pierce was back on his comm. “Sorry, m’lord, that Bothan musta kept his mask on so the gas didn’t get him. But I did. I’m downloading their comms and logs now. Got the droid bits in the containment vessel, too.”

Xhareen turned to Quinn. “I’m sorry, you startled me. That was quick thinking, Captain.” Then, to Pierce: “Lieutenant, your taxi is on its way. Get back as soon as possible and go to the coordinates agreed on.”

Quinn moved back up to Xhareen and whispered in her ear, “I know you’re still hurting, but please allow me to congratulate you on a job well done.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry,” she whispered back. “We can talk more later.”

He reached for her shoulder, and this time she didn’t pull away. He gave her a quick, reassuring rub.

 

~~~~~~

After Pierce was back and they were safely in a hyperspace lane headed away from Corellia, Jaesa poked Vette and pulled her to the hallway behind the bridge.

“Did you see that? Something’s going on with Xhareen and Quinn, I knew it. He tried twice to touch her and she moved away. Something’s very, very wrong.”

Vette gave Jaesa a hug. “Yeah, probably. But don’t worry about them. They’ll figure it out. They always do. They might take a few years, but they always arrive at the obvious conclusion.”

“I hope so, Vette. I really do. Quinn is Quinn, and a mass of nerves and rules and Jedi-like self-denial, but he loves her, and we know she can’t help but love him.”

Pierce came into the hallway behind them and harrumphed. “Whatever’s wrong with Quinn’ll take you years to figure out. But do let him and Xhareen know I did a sweep of the ship. Don’t see anything amiss despite having the probe exposed in the airlock for the time it took me to rig it. Sure it was a spy droid, but it doesn’t seem to have left any souvenirs. The pieces I brought back are secure again, though I can’t wait to get it off this ship.”

 ~~~~~~

Location: Unknown.

Two Sith in dull gray robes stood by the pulsing globe of light generated by a device of unknown, and probably unknowable, origin. “That is highly disappointing, brother. Clearly, the Wrath needs more stringent guidance.”

The other Sith moved his head from side to side and said only, “Disappointment is not dissent. But doubt can be deadly.”

 


	17. How You and I Became Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to their first time.

Xhareen woke up to a darkened cabin. Like the rest of the crew, she'd gone without sleep for more than a standard day to finish the job dealing with Moff Broysc. Only once she was certain the Citadel had bought the claim that the Red Scorpion pirates were taking credit for his death could she rest. That, and ensuring Quinn was OK that he had been the one to pull the trigger and deliver the body to their courier.

He’d come back just as she finished her dealings. She was so relieved to see him, maybe too much so. She’d shared with him a secret she had never told anyone, not even the Sith overseers who trained her off the books before arranging her transfer to Korriban. Certainly, Quinn must have figured out she had to kill to survive in the slave pits, something she revealed to him only weeks before, after Baras had tried to kill them both on Quesh.

He heard the awful story and hadn’t recoiled in horror; in fact, he seemed to draw closer to her in those few moments than he’d ever been. He would probably pull away again, go back to that safe distance between them that he was so keen on preserving.  But they’d shared a moment and she forced herself to accept that was enough.

She checked her chrono. It had been nearly eight hours since she had laid down. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so long. It was evening and she figured she could eat an entire nerf steak to herself.

Feeling ready to confront whatever now lay ahead of them all, Xhareen showered and dressed and headed for the galley. No one was out and about. She grabbed a self-cooking ration pack, let it heat up and nearly inhaled it. It was like after her elevation to Lord, when Baras gave them leave to celebrate, and everyone disappeared on her. It was one of the loneliest nights of her life. Must triumph always mean being left alone?

 _No_ , she told herself. _This is not my victory. It is Quinn's_. Even if he can never claim it publicly, they both knew it was an important evolution for him.

Quinn had wrestled for months over the question of what exactly a superior officer was owed in loyalty if that officer was clearly in the wrong. He'd had a practice run when he learned Baras had wanted the inconvenient captain killed in the cave in on Quesh along with the cast off apprentice. Quinn was not one to waste his allegiance and his skills on being merely a pawn.

Xhareen had never been prouder than when Quinn declared he would stay at her side, even after she'd said he could go back to serving Baras, or back into the Fleet if he wanted and she would understand.

"That would be bad for the Empire, Xhareen. Nor is that how loyalty works,” he had assured her.

"Thank you, Quinn," she had told him. "I don't doubt your loyalty to me, I just want to make sure all the parts you've been wrestling with these past few months fit together for you."

He grasped her hand. "I was genuinely concerned for your life after the cave in, my lord. I may have gotten a bit too comfortable with you. I still must maintain my professional distance, but know that I will do so by your side. For everything you have taught me, and allowed me to accomplish, you have my thanks."

She had survived on replaying those words in her head for the past several weeks, figuring that was the closest she'd ever get to a declaration of love from him.

She made her way to the bridge, hoping he was there. She was not disappointed.

"Captain, report," she ordered as she walked into the room. Quinn looked up at her with a broad, warm smile. She smiled back. He walked from the comm station to the entry way where she stood.

"My lord, I'm fielding reports from across Imperial forces. Among the men, there's a universal relief that Moff Broysc is no more." His voice was quiet and calm.

"It was the right thing to do, Quinn. The rest of the Empire was passive. It sickens me."

"I was guilty of that for a long time."

"Any other guilty feelings, Quinn?"

"I do not feel conflicted in the least. Not about anything. Including you." He moved to within a few inches of her and began to whisper. "I've held back long enough. I've been too rigid, too inflexible. I won't suppress my feelings and desires any longer."

 _This is not happening_ , she thought. After so long, she was resigned to the odd emotional-but-not-physical, close-but-not-too-close relationship they had developed. A few kisses, a few lingering hands over wounds being treated. The passion was there, but Quinn's emotional walls had remained intact. Xhareen certainly had no plans to tear them down, afraid Quinn would try again to leave her service. She'd told Jaesa and Vette in a moment of complete openness that she was OK -- not happy, but certainly OK -- with a platonic-plus relationship with Quinn if that was the only way they could be together. Jaesa bought it, though Vette just laughed.

"Quinn, what does that mean? Please, don't toy with me." She felt completely at his mercy, and she wasn't happy about that. Nor was she entirely happy with the pleading in her voice.

"My lord, you should know by now I don't play games. Come with me to my quarters. I'll show you how I feel."

 _This is not happening. But I’m not going to fight it, either._ "If you truly mean it, then lead the way."

Quinn tapped the intercom. "Toovee, you have the bridge."

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Let's go see if we can make all the parts fit together now."

~~~~~~

Quinn made his way to his quarters, walking as fast as he could without running or making too much of a noise. Xhareen followed behind him, her soft-soled boots mercifully not making any sound as she fell in step with him. It was only a matter of meters from the bridge to Quinn's cabin, but still, it felt like it took an hour to get there while walking a gantlet of jeering onlookers.

But they passed no one on the way. Everyone must either be off ship, or still hung over, since Xhareen had granted a general leave to coincide with their arrival back at Nar Shaddaa. Thanks to Vette, the official records showed the _Covenant_ had been orbiting Quesh, their most recent base of operations, during the time of Broysc’s abduction and death.

When the cabin doors swooshed closed, Quinn grabbed Xhareen and swept her close to him, kissing her deeply.

This was far more passionate than any of their previous kisses. This was fire and rage and desire, burning as brightly in Quinn as it did in Xhareen, and she was nearly drunk from the sensations. Quinn was not Force sensitive, and yet, she could feel him wanting her. Maybe that transpired between normal people who'd waited this long. Maybe it was because they'd waited so long. Maybe they'd forged a bond, somehow. Maybe they were just two bodies in great need and that’s how biology worked.

Xhareen got so lost in thought she didn't realize Quinn had already removed his boots and his belt and was starting on the buttons on his jacket. She stopped him.

"Wait, Malavai, I have one request."

He bent in and kissed her again. "Whatever you desire, my general."

She laughed. "I am not normally one for role-play, but I cannot tell you how many times I have fantasized about what I'd like you to do right now, Malavai."

"You mean, Captain Quinn?" She had no idea the man could smirk like that, be both so audacious and boyish at the same time.

"Captain, I want you to sit down on the seat over there." She pointed to the short, padded bench along the wall. Quinn had set up a small table to use as a desk in front of it. It was, of course, impeccably clean and everything was arranged neatly. Though she wanted nothing more than to throw it all on the floor and have Quinn take her on the table, that would have to wait for another time.

Quinn went over to the bench and sat down as ordered. Xhareen walked over and lifted the table away from the bench, keeping the items on it mostly in place. Then, she stood in front of Quinn and started to remove her clothing. When she got down to her undergarments, she moved in and sat on his lap, straddling his legs and facing him. Quinn reached up and unhooked her bra, and when her breasts were free, grabbed each with a hand.

Xhareen nearly climaxed from that move alone, and began grinding, then leaned in to kiss him. He kept up with his fondling of her breasts. When he stopped for a breath, she pulled away, lifted herself up a bit and removed her panties. Then, she reached under his jacket and undid the fastener on his trousers.

"Oh, I get where this is going," Quinn said.

"Let's test how limber you are, soldier." She started to pull down his trousers. He still had his hands on her breasts, and made no effort to remove them. She yanked on the trousers and Quinn thrust his hips up just enough for her to get them around his backside and bump his erection into her. She laughed, and he lifted his head up enough to give her a quick peck.

"Now for the real test."

"Permission to remove my hands from your lovely breasts in order to remove the remaining obstacles to our mutual pleasure, my lord."

She leaned in and gently bit his lip. "Granted."

He lifted himself up enough to remove his undergarments and slide them and his trousers to the floor, then kicked them off. "I take it the jacket stays on then?"

"Absolutely."

"It might be uncomfortable."

"Don't care, just get inside me, Quinn."

He did as he was told, sliding himself inside her and then grasping her and assisting her as she began moving up and down. She leaned her naked chest in against his jacket, and he lifted one hand to put around her back.

"Oh, Xhareen. I have dreamed about this."

"Were you asleep, or were these the waking kind of dreams."

"Both. Mostly the waking kind."

“Same here. This is so much better, though.”

“Indeed.” And with that, he began thrusting even harder, both hands back on her cheeks, grasping and pushing until she couldn't hold on any longer. She grabbed Quinn around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder and let out something louder than a moan though less than a scream. He kept pumping, but put his arm up around her back again. This time, she pushed up against his hand and started to lean back. He let her go far enough back so that he could bend in and reach her breast with his mouth.

He gave her nipple a slight bite, and she moaned again. That was more than he could take and within seconds, he had reached his release point, too, letting out a deep grunt followed by a long sigh. Xhareen seemed to be moaning loudly again, too. He pulled her back into his jacketed chest, and held her with both arms tightly to his body.

She had collapsed against him, her head on his shoulder. She wanted to say something but her mouth refused to work. She wanted to feel his naked chest against hers but having his arms around her like this, it was something she simply wasn’t ready to have end.

“I’d say the drill was a success, my lord. I’m not opposed to further training, however.”

“You’re awfully spry for an old man. But let’s do head for the bed.”

Once they got comfortable, Xhareen apologized for the old man remark. “Don’t fret, Xhareen. It’s as though I spent 10 years in stasis on Balmorra before you showed up. So I’m not all that much older than you.”

“Yeah, you really are kind of a dork about women, aren’t you? I thought I'd die of old age before this ever happened."

“Hey, that’s not fair. I never met a woman like you. Nothing prepared me for this kind of emotional upheaval.”

She smiled. “What do I need to do to prepare you for Round 2?”


	18. Rescue, Reconnect, Redeploy

Zavaa, Quinn and SCORPIO got so lost in the data retrieved from the probe, none of them noticed Xhareen leave the bridge. She went to the galley and found two unclaimed ration bars and a protein drink on the counter and she made quick work of all three. The ship droid appeared then, and without even asking, started to make a cup of caff, but she stopped him.

“Do you have any herbal teas?”

The droid’s hands flailed for a moment, then it declared it could accommodate the request. As he scuffled across to the storage bins, Xhareen wished she had been able to talk to Toovee after the rescue, but the crew needed to make its escape to hyperspace quickly, and she understood.

The droid handed her the cup. She took a deep breath of the deep red-gold liquid and instantly recognized the leafy, flowery scent of the signature tea served to outsiders on Voss.

The place where her betrayal had been planned. Throwing the cup across the room would be rude, and besides, the tea was tasty and soothing and just what she needed.

“That’s quite a deep thought. Cipher does not share our fondness for that drink.”

Vector had been on the bridge during the rescue, but had said almost nothing. He, too, must have felt the odd man out as the partners and SCORPIO poured over the information the Covenant had sent.

“I suppose I have you to thank for this being in stock, then?”

Vector nodded. “Would you care to talk?”

She reached out and touched his arm. “Only if it has nothing to do with anything important. Do you follow any holodramas?”

~~~~~~

After watching a few random episodes of _Our Sith Legacy_ with Vector, Xhareen retired early to her cabin. Quinn’s clothing was on the other bunk. She didn’t care about that right now. Her ship was safe, but she was still peeved at him, even though he had been right about everything. She tried to sleep, but soon gave up.

Quinn crept in a half hour or so later; whether he realized she was pretending to be asleep or not, she couldn’t tell. He lay down, and was quiet for a few moments. Then he started shifting and turning and fighting the bedsheet. After a brief bout of silence, he got up to use the refresher. Upon his return, he attempted once more to get comfortable and couldn’t.

After a few more rounds of shifts and sighs, Xhareen could take no more. “Quinn! Take a tranq if you can’t sleep, please.”

“I’m sorry, Xhareen,” he said, sitting up fully on the side of the bed. “I just can’t seem to get comfortable. There’s a lump in this mattress.”

“You want to talk?” Months of experience had shown that Passive-Aggressive Quinn could not be ignored. And she knew so much had been left unsaid from before.

“I thought you were asleep. I know you hate it when I don’t ask you something directly, but I also didn’t want to wake you.”

Xhareen sat up in the bed, drawing her knees to her chest and pulling the blanket around her like a cloak. Quinn switched on the bedside light to its lowest level, the closest you’d get on a luxury cruiser to a campfire in the woods.

Quinn let out a slight laugh. “You look like those tourist statues of the old wise woman they sell on Tatooine.”

“Oh, that will win you points. Just what a woman wants to hear.” She tried not to let him see her smile.

“That is my gift. Saying the wrong thing to women.”

His awkwardness could be so charming. It put dealing with his more frustrating side into perspective.

“What’s on your mind, then?

“Watching you with the crew – you’re so maternal, I realized. You think about the people in your care first and foremost. I didn’t mean to countermand you, I promise. I just couldn’t watch anything awful happen to them and my mind …”

“… did what it’s supposed to do. You analyze scenarios even before you can vocalize them. I get it. And there wasn’t time to ask permission or spell out the details. I understand. Everyone else did, too.”

He was silent for a moment. Clearly, he didn’t just want to apologize. Some deeper emotion was tearing at him and Xhareen realized she wanted to help him, but she wasn’t going to draw it out of him. He had to figure out how to say what he needed to say.

“You mentioned my court martial earlier. I suppose you know what my mother did.”

She did. Ellys Quinn, heiress, retired physician, widow of Imperial hero Col. Rymar Quinn, had disowned her son. Little was said of it except some arbiter’s notes about admissibility of her previous testimony. That arbiter had, interestingly enough, placed those notes in a file titled “rejected plea bargain.”

“I know she disowned you. I supposed for society reasons.”

He nodded. “That’s what she said, anyway. She insisted my shame would undermine my sisters’ chances at marriage or in their professional lives. I hated her so much for it, too. I never actively felt such a strong emotion before.”

“My mother had always been my advocate. When I declared for the military, my father hesitated. He thought my introspective nature made me unsuitable for command. But she argued for me, supported me all the way, even if I was giving up following her into medicine.

“When she was the one who delivered the gut punch after my court-martial, I nearly …” He buried his face in his hands and started to sob.

Xhareen couldn’t keep herself away any longer. She was afraid to get close, even after his apology earlier, but she couldn’t abide this deep-seated pain of his. She couldn’t let him suffer alone. She went over to his bunk and sat next to him, close enough to touch sides, but she kept her hands in her own lap.

“You should talk this through. You nearly what?”

He reached over to the nightstand and picked up one of the clean face cloths lying on it. He wiped his eyes and composed himself before continuing.

“I nearly went to the advocate and offered to rat out every superior officer’s misdeeds I’d seen in my three years of service.”

So, he’d played this gambit once before. “Hoping then that one of them would put you out of your misery?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t want to be the only one wallowing in it.”

She reached over and caressed his burning face. “You, Malavai Quinn, are the strongest man I know. But even you have your weaknesses. We all do. The one person you thought was your rock abandoned you. I know how you feel.”

“Because I’ve done it to you. And I know how it’s made me feel.”

“She was lost. Her husband gone, her son slipping away from her. She thought she was protecting the family legacy. She made a decision and it turned out to be the wrong one. She doesn’t even know the truth about Druckenwell, but I could tell when I spoke to her months ago she wanted to mend things between you.”

He ignored that. “Is it going to take 10 years for us?”

“No. I accepted your apology and that is genuine but I’m not ready to make up my mind about our personal relationship. I do promise that I won’t leave you hanging that long. That’s not my way.”

“I want to fix things between us, darling, but if that can’t happen right here and now, I accept that. But I also want to mend fences with my family. If you and I can’t be fixed, then at least I will have them.”

“Please, promise me you won’t stew over this.” Quinn had no problems making decisions in planning or executing a mission, but when it came to emotional decisions, he was more sluggish than a sleen on Hoth.

“No, I am decided. When it’s possible again, I will face my family.”

“I didn’t tell you this before, but you should know your family is larger now. Your sister is married to a captain and has a son.”

“Kayda? Never expected her to be married. Certainly not to another officer.”

“No, sorry, your younger sister. Rissa, is it?”

“OK, that makes more sense. She’d be about your age now.”

“I couldn’t tell. Your mother showed me a holo. She looks too young to be a mother, and I feel old as the dirt.”

“You could be 127 and still be beautiful. You might not want to hear me say things like that anymore, but I still think them.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m being cruel and withholding my feelings. I just don’t know what they are anymore.”

“You don’t love me?”

Seeing his head fall as he said that, Xhareen wanted nothing more than to run out of the room. Now it was her turn to face the things that scared her most: losing him. Losing herself. Because it certainly had felt in the transponder room that she’d lost him, whether to betrayal or self-destruction. Was his apology, heartfelt as it had been, enough to get past that? What was she giving up of herself if she forgave him?

“I can’t remember a time that I knew you and didn’t love you. I know at first the attraction was purely physical, but it didn’t take me long to fall hard for the rest of you.”

“But I am asking you now, Xhareen, right here in this cabin on this ship: Do you still love me?”

“Yes,” she answered before she could stop to think – or stop herself from thinking.

Quinn reached his hand up to her head. She pulled back at first, then relented. Her hair was already down, making it easier for him to slide his fingers through it to pull on the strings of her tribal wrap and untie them.

“All I want is to see you. Nothing more.”

She stroked his hand as he pulled the veil from her face. He grasped her fingers and drew them to his lips. The sudden rush of guiltless pleasure left her slightly nauseous.

“What am I supposed to do here? I can’t pretend nothing happened.”

“Nor am I asking you to. I don’t want to make excuses, Xhareen, because we need to work through this honestly. I was weak. I made a terrible mistake. And all this time, you have relied on me to be strong and right, at all times. It was never a burden until Baras showed his ugly mask on that holo.”

“I never should have put so much responsibility on you.”

“Don’t say that. I cherished every second of it. I realize now I was bound to fail at some moment. Just wish it had been a different one is all.”

“I’m still not sure what happens next. Or more to the point, when will it be right for something to change.”

“Just don’t give up on me,” he said as she pulled her hand back into her lap. He leaned over and bumped her arm. “I’d give anything if you stayed in my bunk tonight.”

“Just sleep?”

“If that’s what you want. Anything to have you near. We both know I am perfectly capable of chaste behavior.”

“Won’t know unless we try, eh?”

“Agreed. But you can sleep on the lump.”

She laughed and laid down nearest the bulkhead. “There’s no lump, Quinn. Except in your head.”

He quickly filled up the space next to her, that comfortable, but exciting way he had of melting into her after they made love. They’d fallen asleep, still wet and sticky, dozens of times like that.

He bent his head down and kissed her neck. “A kiss is still chaste, yes?”

“What happens if I want more, right now, and then pull back again in the morning? I don’t want to play you.”

“Won’t know until it happens, I suppose.” He snuggled up even closer; she smiled to find he’d gotten hard.

She needed to feel again, to know if she still loved him as she had, if she still wanted him as a man, as her man. She sat up, and removed her top. Quinn had extinguished the desk lamp, so that there was only the reddish glow of the emergency lights in the cabin. He reached his hand up and grabbed her breast. Xhareen moaned and gyrated under the grasp of his large, warm hand on her skin.

Quinn pulled her back down to him, and kissed her on the mouth. He wound his arms around her and moved her onto her back, then sat up and removed his night clothes. Even with just her Force sight, his naked body was lovely to behold. She moved her hands along his chest, tracing the familiar map of his muscular form.

He bent down again, and began tracing a line of kisses down her torso, until he got to the top of the loose shorts she was wearing. She lifted up, and he pulled them down, then began kissing her underclothes and rubbing his hand between her legs.

She was in full moan now, deep and throaty, reaching quickly that point where neither could hold back. Quinn pulled off her panties and put his tongue on her sensitive spot and began working his magic on her. The first time he did this, she could hardly believe how skilled her repressed captain was. It still surprised her in all the best ways, every time he did it. She played with his hair as she always did, not even worrying if she pulled too tight as he thrust his fingers inside her.

She endured his delicious torture until she climaxed, and pulled his head away. It was their game – he knew she grew too sensitive for him to keep sucking and licking once she’d climaxed, but he would only stop once she grabbed his head and moved it away.

“Ahhhhhnhhhh, Quinn. You … stop …”

“Yes, my lord. Of course, my lord. Permission to enter you now?”

“Make haste, captain.”

He moved up until his face met hers, sliding her left leg up with his right hand as he did. He could be so graceful in bed, it had always struck her. She was wet, so he guided himself inside and then moved into a crouch and began to thrust.

“No,” she whispered. “Lie atop me, please.”

“As you command.”

She slapped him gently on the ass. “Enough of that. I want the man, not the officer tonight.”

“You always have him, Xhareen. He is all yours.”

Xhareen was reaching for his butt cheeks, not to smack but to caress, but now she pulled her hands up and wrapped them around his back. He bent in and kissed her again, still tasting of her but it was not unpleasant. He slid easily into his rhythm, their rhythm.

He moved his mouth to the side of her head and began sucking her earlobe. She climaxed again quickly, digging her fingers into his back until he climaxed, too. He always held his breath and started to pull back right before he came, as though he were trying to stop the pleasure before it happened. Thankfully, he never had.

Quinn remained still until he slipped out of her, then rolled onto his back beside her and pulled her close. They both moved wordlessly, having worked this maneuver out like dance partners. She couldn’t help thinking how well she knew this man, except when she didn’t. That would always be the enigma of Quinn.

“I won’t give up on you, Malavai. I won’t give up on us.”

~~~~~~

She woke up first, two hours before morning. Quinn stirred as she got out of the bunk, so she said “Refresher” and he turned over and went back to sleep. She looked at him for several moments. Yes, he was physically beautiful, but inside that package was a complicated man. He loved passionately, but he could be distant, too. He loved his career, and her, but he had undermined them both at one time or another.

Then it hit her. A way to bring something good out of this horrid experience. And something she hoped would also save their relationship.

It’s just that it might also tear them apart, too. She wouldn’t know until she made the call.

 


	19. Service is Its Own Reward

Xhareen made her way to the engine room. No one else was awake yet, but she knew that SCORPIO never slept, and she could help with the task at hand.

“What is it you need, Sith?” The voice, so soft it was jarring. There would be no need to make small talk, no need to plead a case. SCORPIO would either help or she would not.

“I need to make a holocall without being detected.”

“The ship’s communications are secure without requiring my assistance.”

No, it wasn’t going to be that easy. “I need to talk to the Grand Moff.”

SCORPIO gave a brief pause. “I take it he is not in the habit of taking your calls.”

Without forcing a call through means she had no idea of, Xhareen could think of no way she could get through to him otherwise.

“You are correct.”

“Is this something you are trying to keep from the Agent?” SCORPIO’s habit of referring to Zavaa by that outdated term was as jarring as her metallic voice. It signaled that SCORPIO wrote her own reality and in it, Zavaa’s outsider status was irrelevant.

“No, but I need to get him now, and no one else is awake. I have no problem sharing what I’m doing with her later.”

“Very well.”

Xhareen followed her to the conference room, where the secure terminal and the Black Codex were stored. SCORPIO got the gear working and within a few moments, the image of Grand Moff Regus appeared on the holo.

“What is the meaning of this? Who are you?” It was barely after sunrise on Dromund Kaas, and he was already in his office and in full dress uniform.

Xhareen stood up straight. She had made sure to wear her armor and have both of her sabers equipped. This was the best face she could show him.

“I am Xhareen Nah-garesh, Lord of the Sith and the Emperor’s Wrath.”

“Well. I’ve never spoken to a ghost, though there isn’t much I would put past the Sith.”

No surprise there, that he’d been briefed on the attack on the _Yaroe Star_. “Your predecessor owed me a favor, and I’m hoping I can still call it in. Mostly because it might help you with some of your Sith issues.”

His face softened a bit. Xhareen took that as a good sign. She had no prior knowledge of this man, whether he hated aliens, how much he tolerated Sith intrusions into military affairs, or if he even wanted the job he had inherited.

“That depends, my lord, on what it is you want from me. And whether any more of my troops are going to pay for this feud you’re having with your former master.”

Baras had been responsible for scores of deaths on Quesh when his new plaything, Lord Draahg, attempted to bury Xhareen in a cavern below the main base there. Not to mention, he’d just severely damaged a transport ship en route to the Corellian front.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, but I want to help you with that problem.”

“I thought you needed a favor.”

“They are one and the same, Moff Regus.”

He looked her over once again. “Go on, but first, do tell me: Is Captain Quinn alive? Since the _Yaroe Star_ reported trouble and then disappeared, and Baras implicated your ship in its demise, I have wondered.”

“He is alive and recovering from his injuries. That is the nature of my call. I want to give him to you.”

_No, I don’t, not really. I want him by my side. But he’s gone as far as he can with me; juggling business and pleasure is stunting him. It nearly killed him twice. He is stressed more than he can admit. And more than anything, I promised to restore his career and this is my last chance to do that._

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not safe with me. I have to confront Baras alone. Master vs. apprentice, you know the old story. But Capt. Quinn is an asset you need. It would be a waste for Baras to make him collateral damage.”

Regus nodded. “I believe you have another officer in your crew as well.”

Xhareen hadn’t considered that Pierce would be a part of the deal, but it would probably be best for him, too. He had been deep into planning the assault on the Bastion, which was now on hold while he was in hiding.

“Yes. Take them both back into the Fleet. Give them the positions and rank they deserve.”

“How do you know Baras won’t simply go after them again to get to you?”

She took a deep breath. This was where her powers of persuasion would need to kick in. “Because I’m hoping you’ll patch Baras into this call and we can work that out.”

“Whoa, wait a minute …”

“Believe me, Moff Regus, he won’t want to jeopardize the military’s support. You place Quinn and Pierce under your shield, I challenge him in front of you to keep his quarrel strictly with me, and he will agree to it.” _His enormous ego will require it._

The moff gave it a moment’s thought. “You have a deal, Xhareen Nah-garesh, Lord of the Sith. Give me a moment to have my adjutant contact Baras’s chambers.”

She let go a sigh of relief. It was heartening, too, to hear Regus refer to Baras without any titles. Clearly, there was no love lost between the two of them.

Within a few minutes, the familiar image of her former master flickered and appeared.

“Ah! my rogue apprentice,” he said, dripping with insincerity. “I hadn’t heard from you in so long, I was beginning to believe the scattered reports of your demise.”

She gave him a mock bow. “Sorry, Baras. I took you off speed dial after you tried to kill me the first time.”

He parried with an affected laugh. “Tell me, o Prodigal One, did Capt. Quinn survive, as well?”

_So, he didn’t know_. He likely also assumed the _Yaroe Star_ destroyed, which was welcome news.

“Yes. I caught onto his plan and spared him. I figured the fact that it was so needlessly melodramatic was your doing, not his.” _Chew on that, nerf kriffer_.

“Too bad he blew up a military transport in the process.” Baras was clearly fishing now. Xhareen made a note to make sure Regus knew the truth.

“Yes, and I brought half of Quesh down all by myself. I’m not here to discuss your destructive tantrums, Baras. The Grand Moff is in need of experienced officers for the Corellian offensive, as I’m sure you in your new capacity are well aware. I have agreed to let him have Quinn and Lt. Pierce, except we both would like your word you won’t harm them or use them against me again.”

He didn’t immediately respond. _Interesting_. As long ago as back on Nar Shaddaa, Lord Rathari had intimated that there were Sith who thought Baras was losing his grip. Maybe she wasn’t so outmatched in this quest after all.

“You don’t need to use my people against me, Baras. I am coming for you, make no mistake. You’ll have your chance to face me like a true Sith, and not have to destroy others in the process like a cowardly puppet master.”

Regus might not notice it, but Xhareen could see the air around Baras start to shimmer with rage. She was getting through, but she also had known since she was a small girl, stalking beasts on her homeworld, that the most dangerous animal was the one just cornered.

Then he laughed his much-practiced laugh again. “You are bold, apprentice. I accept your terms. Quinn and Pierce are off the table. Let them be around to mourn you, at the very least.”

Which also meant the rest of her crew were not safe, but she would deal with them when she got back to the _Covenant_.

“Then we are done here. Regus, close the channel.”

Moff Regus was probably not the type to take orders from a lowly Sith lord, but he nodded to Baras with a quick, “my lord,” and shut off the feed.

When it was clear the call had ended, Regus spoke. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Sith. I must be very clear with you that I will not tolerate any more shenanigans that cost my men their lives.”

“Moff Regus, I am indebted to you. I am sworn to the Emperor directly, and to the preservation of the Empire as a result of that. I will take care of your Baras problem as quickly as possible.”

“Good, then. I will have orders for my officers transmitted within a few moments. Regus …”

“Wait, Moff. I wanted to let you know that the _Yaroe Star_ , though it was severely damaged, is safe and being repaired in Hutt space. At my expense.”

“I doubt you can replace those two lost war droids.”

“Sadly, I cannot. Baras had them rigged with detonite, much to everyone’s surprise.”

“You do know, he was portraying you as the cause of the attack, that it was an act of terrorism to make him look bad.”

_Figures_. “Baras has a tenuous relationship with the truth. As I’m sure you realized well before this.”

“That’s how I stayed alive long enough to think I was going to retire. Too bad Kilran wasn’t similarly cautious with his own mortality.”

“None of our careers appears to have taken the path we wanted, Moff.” Xhareen had grieved to hear news of Kilran’s death, having been highly impressed with him ever since she aided him with his _Brentaal Star_ problem. But it seems the Empire was being well-served by his replacement.

“Speaking of that, do know that I respect your captain. I served with his father. A good man. Both of them, good men. Young Quinn saved the Empire, and got a raw deal in exchange. But as I’m sure you figured out, Moff Broysc had unsavory information about a lot of us and there was also the small matter of his family corporation’s close ties to all the powerful, from rich Kaasians to pirate organizations. It surprises me not, though, that it was pirates that finally brought him down. He never did see that playing with fire gets you burned.”

“Broysc was an embarrassment, a cancer on the entire Empire. That he prospered while an officer like Quinn suffered …”

“I understand, my lord. I will personally see to a suitable posting for your captain. Thank you, sincerely. This isn’t an easy thing for you to do, is it?”

“The captain and I have a personal relationship. He is very dear to me.”

Regus’s voice softened to an almost fatherly tone. “I promise, my dear, Baras will not get his hands on him. And now, I must get to the regularly scheduled mayhem of a day in wartime. Regus out.”

The holo went dark. Xhareen stood in the conference room for a few minutes longer. It was good to hear Regus say he wouldn’t let Baras get to Quinn.

“I will tear the entire Empire down to keep that from happening,” she said to the empty room, and then left.

~~~~~~

Xhareen didn’t want to go back to the room and wake up Quinn yet. So she sat in the lounge area, until her personal comm buzzed. It was a human female officer in a naval uniform. “This is Cmdr. Salleck, Moff Regus’s adjutant. Please forward your personal datalink so I may send you a private communication from the Grand Moff.”

Xhareen beamed the information to her. It would be routed through a thousand datalinks before getting to her and every machine along the way would forget the transaction.

“Thank you, my lord. Salleck out.”

A few minutes later, the data appeared on her pad. She smiled. It was a nice surprise.

Now she hoped she could sell Quinn on that assessment.


	20. Relative Bearings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One chapter ends, another begins.

Quinn sat on the bunk, staring at his hands. “When you said last night you weren’t sure how you’d feel in the morning, I didn’t think you wanted to be rid of me. I know you can change gears very quickly but …”

“I don’t want to get rid of you. darling. This is a promotion. I thought a command of your own was all you ever wanted.”

“I have a command. I share it with you.”

“And how has that gone, for either of us? If you stay with me, Baras will just try to use you again. Neither of us wants that.”

He nodded, though his head stayed down. “You’re right, of course. I just thought there’d be time to make up to you for what I’ve done.”

She knelt in front of him, and took his hands in hers. “This is how you do that. You go out there, and you win this war. We both do what we must to win this war. Your Empire is calling you.”

He smiled, though whether it was more like a grimace, she couldn’t say. “Then I will heed that call, my love.”

She kissed his fingers. “I’m so proud of you, Major Quinn.”

~~~~~~  
Quinn had until the end of the day to report to the _Indomitable_ , the Imperial military’s command ship orbiting Corellia. He was to board a transport back to Dromund Kaas along with several hundred troops from a smattering of battalions, all that remained from the initial ground assault in and around the capital city. It would be up to Quinn and two other newly promoted majors to regroup these battleworn troops with new recruits into the three-part ground assault wing of the Fifth Army.

Quinn didn’t even try to hide his disappointment that he and Xhareen would be split up. “I can’t believe Pierce will get to spend more time with you than I do. I don’t even get to spend another night with you.”

“You know, you don’t have anything here to pack. So nothing is keeping us from finding another way to spend this day together. I’m sure Zavaa and the others will understand.”

He perked up a bit after that. 

~~~~~~  
They made love several times over the next few hours, and had two meals delivered by the ship’s droid to the cabin. But mostly they talked. 

With two hours left before the _Phantom_ would have to leave to dock with the _Indomitable_ , Xhareen went to contact her dwindling crew while Quinn got dressed. 

As if it were an omen, Pierce was on bridge duty and answered the comm. 

“You’ve been given clearance to return to planning your Bastion mission, Captain Pierce,” she said, beaming. Making the assignment official meant he would be off the ship most of the time. As many problems as she’d had with the lumbering lieutenant, she would miss him.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

“I said you’ve been given a promotion.”

A sinister grin crossed his scarred face. It didn’t take Xhareen long to decode it. 

“For the record, Quinn’s been promoted, too.”

“Ah.” His grin was gone. “But that’s good for you, my lord, to have a major commanding your vessel.” He sounded genuinely pleased for her, maybe because he’d just been told he’d be separately assigned, and no longer under Quinn’s watchful eye. 

“About that, perhaps you should gather the rest of the crew.”

~~~~~~  
Vette started to cry when she heard the news. “I don’t know if I’m happy or sad,” she said between sobs. 

“Be happy for him. The military needs him.” Xhareen almost added, _“and it was the only way I could keep him from Baras’s clutches.”_

Jaesa moved to comfort Vette, putting her arms around her as she continued to sob. “But what about us?”

Xhareen had seen Zavaa on her way back to the cabin after the meeting with Regus and Baras. She gave a full rundown, and then confessed she had a favor to ask of her friend, too. Zavaa had agreed without more than a second’s thought. 

“We’re going to work with Zavaa and her crew for the time being. At least until Baras is taken care of.”

“You still mean to kill him, don’t you, Master?”

“Yes. There’s no other way, and I’m not at all sorry, Jaesa. He’s a threat to everything and everyone I care about and he will be brought down. But you will be safe on the _Phantom_. We’ll stay close to the bulk of the space fleet, and Baras won’t dare try anything, even if he could get through all the protections this ship has.” 

Vette sniffled a few more times. “Well at least we’ll be together, I mean, most of us.” 

They set the rendezvous for 28 hours. That meant the _Covenant_ wouldn’t make it to Corellia in time for Quinn’s departure, so Xhareen asked Vette and Jaesa to help Toovee pack his things. She would arrange to have them sent to Dromund Kaas.

~~~~~~

Quinn eventually figured out that moping wouldn’t help anything, and after Xhareen left him alone in the cabin, he had to admit he was excited at the chance to prove his military skills in combat once again. Not that every day on Balmorra hadn’t been a warzone, but the Corellian front was of great importance. Career-making importance. 

He had to admit to himself, too, that at some point he’d grown complacent on the _Covenant_. Even as unpredictable as Xhareen’s Sith doings had become, overseeing five people and a small ship did not appear to many as a challenge on the order of running Sobrik. Or now, of commanding a battalion on the northern continent of Corellia. 

It would be dangerous work. The three new units that would be retrained and redeployed would be guarding large mining and industrial processing operations that fed the giant corporations on the main continent where Coronet City was located. Not only were Republic forces trying to retake them, but insurgents and rogue corporate entities coveted the wealth hidden beneath the Corellian surface, making their defense just as much an Imperial objective as taking the power centers like the capital city. He had to accept now that he might be giving his life for the Empire without Xhareen by his side. 

But he had promised her he would heed the call. He would fight, he would stay alive and he would return to her side.

All that was left now was to fulfill the promise he’d made to himself: to be a son again. He had already linked his personal comm unit to the _Phantom’s_ secure system, and made the call to his uncle, Adm. Drayden Quinn ( _Ret_.). After a few moments ensuring his uncle that a direct patch would be untraceable, the call was routed back through the _Phantom_. Within a few minutes after that, a familiar face appeared.

“Hello, Mother. It’s Malavai and I have news for you.” 

~~~~~~

Ellys Quinn had complained bitterly when Drayden told her she and the children would have to go into protective custody due to “some Sith troubles.” He’d said no more. He didn’t need to; she knew it had to do with Malavai and his Sith … whatever she was to him. The girl – looked to be a cybernetic type – said it was her ship, clearly she’d taken her son on as an officer. And apparently something more. 

A mother always knows these things. During her long career as an obstetrician, she’d brought many babies into the world and seen many couples. And she knew that this Sith and her son were a couple. 

She’d already lost her husband in service to the Sith. It would be typical. Sith took and took from the Empire and few of them ever gave anything back. Still, the young woman she’d spoken to appeared serious and strong, and, implants or not, she was clearly attractive. She could see how her son would fall for such a woman.

And get himself into trouble. She just hoped he was safe. She’d begun feeling awful about cutting him out of the family. When Rissa upped the stakes by naming her son – Ellys’s first and only grandchild – Malavai, she’d decided her pride had been misplaced. She loved her grandson. She loved her son. She’d been a fool.

But he’d refused her holocalls. Then she lost track of him. So she turned to Drayden, since he kept tabs on his nephew and had never bothered to deny it. He pulled strings and called in favors to put in a secure call, so even then, Malavai had gotten himself mixed up in Sith political games and he’d been the one in hiding. 

But now, in their safehouse Maker only knew where, when the holo buzzed to life and a scene from an old drama appeared per their agreed upon signal, Ellys figured it was Drayden with some update on when they could go home. 

She gasped when the face of her son, now nearing 40 years old but looking ten years younger, replaced that of a once-popular holodrama heartthrob. He looked so much like his father at that age. And decidedly more handsome than the heartthrob.

“Hello, son. I’ve missed you.”

He bit his lip. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I should be the one …”

“Mother, I’m hoping we can meet soon and discuss this more. I just needed you to know, I’m leaving for the Corellian front. I’ve been promoted to battalion commander.”

“You’re leaving your Sith?”

“It’s for the best. The reason you’re where you are is that her former master is trying to kill her. I can’t go into details, but in the last attempt, I was severely wounded.”

“Mal …? Is that you? _For real?”_

A tall woman came into the projector’s view. His sister, Kayda. Two years older, with inexplicably light brown hair and gray-green eyes, but otherwise, no one would ever deny they were siblings. They’d often been mistaken for twins, even though it had taken teenage Malavai a few years to catch up to his sister’s height. 

And though she was as smart and as disciplined as her little brother, Kayda was not one to skimp on the emotions. Like her light hair in a family of raven- and chestnut-haired parents, siblings and cousins, no one was quite sure where her effusive personality came from, either. Even Rissa, younger than Kayda by a dozen years, was far stealthier in her affections. 

Before he could say anything, she yelled “Rissa, get in here. Bring the baby, too.”

~~~~~~

And so, the Quinn family reunion happened. Malavai soon gave up on trying to remain impassive when he saw his namesake nephew, and the young woman holding him. Rissa had been a toddler when he went off to prep school, and 8 when he left for the Academy. Now she was a young woman, though she favored her mother more than her father. But true to family form, she’d married an Imperial officer, and had begun a family right away. He went off to the war, but she seemed content to stay back at the family’s estate with her mother. 

It was nearly time for the _Phantom_ to begin its short journey to the _Indomitable_ , and there were a few teary goodbyes as Ellys shooed the girls and the baby out of the room. 

“Son,” she said once they were alone, “are you really well enough to fight?”

“I can get you the details later, but I was put into a prototype kolto tank and watched over by a pre-eminent physician. I have three weeks of training with my new command before heading back into combat and I’m sure I’ll pass whatever physical exams I’ll be subjected to.”

“I would hope your Sith would have it no other way.”

“Mother you should know, ‘the Sith’ is my wife. Things are not easy for us at the moment, what with the war going on. But I love her. And I am committed to her.”

Ellys saw in the well-honed face of her son the same look she’d worn for many years, that brave mask that covered up the sadness just long enough to get her husband back out into harm’s way. There had never been any question in Ellys’s mind to lead her life any differently, either. She knew there was no gain in trying to convince her son otherwise; she’d have to let him go. 

But this time, she’d be there if things went wrong for him. Sith or no Sith. She held onto her instinctive sense that this young woman was what her son needed. That had to make it better, of that she was sure.

“I was impressed by her. Still, I’m surprised. I was afraid you’d never settle down.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure there will ever be any settling down with Xhareen. That’s really how we like it.”

“Your father would be proud. You persevered where others would have given in. I always told him, your stubbornness was an asset.”

“I think about him, often.” He fell silent, and said no more.

“So do I, Malavai, but not as much as I’ve thought about you since my grandson was born. I’m sor …”

He put up his hand. “Mother, let’s continue this in person when we can. This has been a rough time for me, and I want us to close this on a positive note, if that’s possible.”

“It’s more than possible, son. It … Just stay safe. Be your smart, cautious self and you’ll do fine. You always have.”

“Thank you, Mother. I just want to say, I love you. I know I was a difficult child and I never said what I was feeling, but recent events have convinced me of the error of my ways.”

“I love you, too, Malavai. Go make the Quinn clan proud.”

“That I will do. Signing off now.”

The transmission ended, and Ellys called the girls back into the room, hugging each one. Then she took her grandson into her arms, and held him until he fell asleep and even then, she insisted on being the one to put him in the crib.

She would see her son again, she knew it. That would have to be enough.


	21. You Will Always Be My Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A goodbye, and a hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork courtesy of the amazing Yamisnuffles.

[ ](http://imgur.com/3CXp6Lk)

SCORPIO sat in the navigator's chair, with Vector at the other console. Zavaa sat in the captain's seat. Xhareen and Quinn sat in the two rear posts, close enough that when Quinn reached out his hand, Xhareen grabbed it. She held too tight, but neither of them complained. SCORPIO navigated the ship through the throng of Imperial vessels surrounding the command ship Indomitable and docked effortlessly.

Xhareen suspected the droid, or whatever she really was, communed with the ship when she retired to the engine room at night and so was able to sidle up next to the behemoth vessel at an instinctive level, much as Xhareen could go through her fighting forms without conscious thought. Except SCORPIO could learn a vessel as complicated as this prototype ship in a short period of time, whereas Xhareen had spent two decades honing her craft.

The great masters, Sith and Jedi alike, taught that a true student never mastered her fighting completely. But Xhareen was not going to suggest any such thing to SCORPIO. However long she and her crew remained attached to the Phantom, Xhareen knew that getting along with this being would be a challenge.

Especially if she had to do it without Quinn, who seemed to accept SCORPIO and her unique intelligence without question. SCORPIO, in turn, seemed to give him a lot less sass than she gave to others, Zavaa included.

The ship slid into position without the slightest bump or drift. Neither Xhareen nor Quinn moved. They knew what was coming next was inevitable now, but neither one seemed eager to begin this unwelcome but necessary goodbye.

"OK, we're docked," Zavaa proclaimed after a moment of frozen quiet on the bridge. It was as much an order to move as it was a statement of their condition, so Xhareen let go of Quinn’s hand and stood up. He stood, too.

“I don’t want to do this, but I will if I must,” he whispered as he picked up the small satchel of items he had acquired during the past three days. Amazing for a man who had been hauled here in a kolto tank, but then again, Quinn would have hardly stayed idle after he regained the ability to move around again, time Xhareen had spent avoiding him. He’d even coaxed a new regulation uniform cap out of the ship’s fabricators. He put it on his head with what Xhareen could only see as a mixture of determination and distress on his face.

This time, it was Xhareen who put her hand out and Quinn grasped a hold. Together, they walked through the airlock and then out into the hangar bay of the _Indomitable_. Its vastness caught her off guard: She’d been cooped up on the _Covenant_ and then the _Phantom_ for so long, she’d forgotten a room could be so large.

“I haven’t seen such a look of wonder on your face since Alderaan,” Quinn said. “You know that was where I first realized I had feelings for you that I couldn’t ignore or just wish away.”

“I will never forget our first thranta ride.” She turned back toward him, unashamed of the wistful smile on her face. But Quinn’s expression was hardly the same.

“Seems like an eternity ago. So much has changed."

“Darling,” she whispered. “The most important thing has not changed: how I feel about you. I know things seem unsettled between us but we’ll have to accept that, for a time.”

He cleared his throat. “I need to confirm that you wish to continue our marital agreement. I’m not asking because I doubt you, but since we filed the paperwork, it has resulted in a bump in my pay, as well as a few congratulatory emails from superior officers. You really are having an effect on the Empire’s affairs.”

“Is this salary increase enough to buy me another new hyperdrive?”

He laughed. “You won’t need one for a long time, but I will buy you whatever other upgrades your heart desires, especially since I know it was you who replaced the funds in my account.”

“Technically, it was Vette who did that.”

He put his hand across his forehead and let out a sigh of resignation. “I don’t know why I ever bothered to think I’d have any privacy on that ship.”

“Well, as your wife, all I can say is it beats me.”

His cheeks colored slightly. “It’s good to hear you say that, even if I don’t deserve it.”

She moved in and wrapped her arms around him, taking in what could be the last draft of his signature woody-earthy cologne. How could she ever make him comprehend his own worth? Perhaps he would always doubt himself deep inside his outer shell of confidence and propriety; she hoped that his new post might change that.

“I’m the one who’s been remiss in repairing our relationship. I have not yet asked you for forgiveness for what I did to you and I need to. Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I goaded you on. I got what I expected. And Dr. Lokin has certified that I’ll be 100% by the time we’re back here to fight.”

“But what I did, Quinn, it gnaws at me. I need to know …”

“You are forgiven, Xhareen my love. I'm the one leaving you as a failed lover; I’m a damaged man. Hardly a worthy mate to the Emperor’s Wrath.”

She put her finger on his lips. “How in any way has your life turned out to be what you’d expected before Druckenwell? You were a golden child. Then you became a tarnished man. You’ve been beaten and worked over and you’re still here. You were never gold, Malavai. You were durasteel. You are durasteel, tempered like the finest blade. That’s the man I love.”

They leaned in simultaneously for a kiss that lasted so long, they were starting to draw an audience. Quinn pulled away first.

“I don't want to be maudlin any longer. I know this is affecting you, too. I'm excited but I'm also terrified of leaving you.”

“You're not getting rid of me that easily.”

He smiled, but his lips trembled slightly even as he did. "I just thought I would retire as your ship’s captain. That we’d retire together.”

“Malavai Quinn, you will always be my captain.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, but she turned her face away at the last second and reached up and stole his hat instead.

“I will keep this until we’re together again,” she declared.

Quinn pulled back and tucked his hands behind his back in full parade rest form. “You do realize, my lord, I am now out of uniform.”

“I always liked you better that way.”

“Then it is time for me to officially take my leave of you. Especially since I’ll have to stop at the quartermaster’s first.”

“Suit yourself,” she said as she put the hat on her head.

“Now that’s a lasting image I’ll carry with me. Although I also always liked it when my hat was all you wore.”

“We’re not done yet, Major Quinn. Not by a long shot.”

He turned and started to walk toward the transport that would take him to Dromund Kaas. “I’m counting on it.”

As she watched him continue toward his destination, she looked ahead of him and saw the registration and name on his conveyance: _Black Talon._

“Regus,” she said aloud to no one. “You have a twisted sense of humor.”

As Quinn walked up the ramp well out of earshot, he turned and waved and then disappeared into the ship she knew all too well. She waved back, grateful more than ever that she couldn’t cry, at least not in a way that others could see. A slight wave of nausea struck and even though Xhareen knew it was her Miralukan physiology’s way of processing extreme emotion, she made a mental note to submit to Dr. Lokin’s suggestion she have a full physical workup done.

Anything to take her mind off being alone.

~~~~~~

In the far corner of the hangar, a young woman typed into a datapad, “He’s here,” then shut it down and made her way to the _Black Talon_. She presented her credentials and transfer orders to the executive officer before boarding.

“Welcome aboard, Lt. Kirrika. You’ve been assigned to the Second Battalion under Major Quinn. We’ll be leaving for Dromund Kaas in 20 minutes. Find your place quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You Will Always Be My Captain probably should be the name of this story, and I might change it someday.


	22. End Program

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> En route to Corellian airspace

 

“You know what else is odd, Vette?” 

It was Jaesa. _Again_. Staring over her shoulder as Vette pretended to be busy at the main terminal. Vette hadn’t even put her caff mug to her lips yet. 

“Nope. And I don’t care.” She hated sounding cross to her friend and shipmate, but Jaesa’s angst over Xhareen and Quinn had become too much. They were all suffering space lag, and having trouble sleeping, but Vette hated using that as an excuse for being mean to anyone. Except maybe over this topic, pre-caff. 

“But why would Quinn need to remote access his files to delete music?” 

“What?” Vette tried not to let her astonishment show, but she put her mug down on the edge of the table and nearly lost it. 

“I couldn’t stand that cursor that’s been blinking since your little spacewalking adventure, so while you were sleeping, I checked on it. I could see the files, but not open them. Sorry.” 

_They were Quinn’s files? He was the one who remote accessed the ship?_ Her head was swimming now. “OK, sorry. That is weird. I’ll need to enter some codes to pull them out.” 

The same subroutine she’d written to save the files also made sure she was the only one who could access them. It was how she’d communicated with her old Twi’lek crew back in the day. They still had 30 minutes before they’d meet up with Xhareen on her friend’s ship, so now was as good a time as any to check it out. Hopefully it would just be some boring ship manifest or military information that Quinn had felt squirrelly about and decided to be anal over. Maybe he wrote holodrama fanfiction and didn’t want anyone to find it. _Boy, that would make this whole ordeal worth it_ , she thought, a smile breaking over her face. 

Both files were also protected by the masking protocol she’d taught to Quinn. She’d missed it when she and Pierce traipsed through his files over a week ago, since they were looking for someone else’s code. 

The first file appeared to be a training simulation. She gave the command to begin playback. 

_Quinn and Xhareen are in an empty cargo hold. They appear to be arguing. Two war droids come in and begin firing. At Xhareen. They give her a run for her credits. Quinn is standing out of range, just watching. Then, he raises his blaster and fires. At Xhareen, who blocks the shot. Without missing a beat, she hurls her mainhand saber at him, cutting him in two. But she’s momentarily distracted by what she’s just done, and one of the droids fires its blasters and hits her in the head. She crumples to the floor._

_End program._  

“Balls, Jaesa. You were right all along. How could I have been so blind?”

~~~~~

 

It felt more like 30 hours than 30 minutes, but the _Covenant_ finally docked with the _Phantom_. Xhareen had commed first and said she would meet up back on their ship, then bring everyone over to meet Zavaa and her crew. Vette tried to sound upbeat, but even just saying, “Sure, see you soon” without screaming took some effort. 

Everyone was there to meet Xhareen. No one else was having any luck pretending this was a happy reunion, either. 

“What’s going on?” Xhareen demanded. “Is something wrong?” 

“You could say that,” Pierce offered. 

“There’s something you need to see, my lord.” Vette normally wasn’t so formal, even in front of the rest of the crew, but she felt used and lied to. Setting some distance from her friend, who right this moment felt more like a jerk boss, just felt right. 

Vette led the small parade back to the conference room. “Quinn left behind two files. They were coded as music files. When he tried to delete them remotely, it triggered a subroutine I wrote in case Darth Backstab tried any funny business. I got one of them to play and I’ll be blunt, I wish I hadn’t.” Before Xhareen could say anything, Vette ordered the computer to begin playing back the simulation. 

After it was through, Xhareen’s open mouth and slack jaw told them a lot. It was a minute at least before she said, “That’s not how it happened. That’s not how any of it happened.” 

“You gonna tell us what did happen, m’lord?” Pierce had said nothing after Vette showed him and Broonmark the program. Broonmark had wailed and smashed a chair, the remnants of which Vette made him hide back in the bunkroom. 

Xhareen ignored Pierce. “You said there were two files.” 

“OK, dodging the question it is,” Vette said. “This one requires your voice print and after that first video, I just didn’t feel like hacking it.” 

Xhareen swallowed. “Show me the second file and I promise, I will explain everything. But know this, all of you, before we go any further: What happened between the captain and myself is our business. We have settled it. I forgave him and he forgave me and we are still together.” 

Vette pushed the button and Xhareen jumped when Quinn’s voice came over the speaker: “Vocal recognition required. Xhareen Nah-garesh. Repeat command code.” 

Xhareen gave it. A holo-recording appeared via the main viewer on the conference room table. It was Quinn, in full-dress uniform. 

“My lord, my dearest Xhareen, if you are viewing this holo it is because my actions, my treachery toward you, has been uncovered and I am either killed or in custody, the former being my preference. 

“I am afraid I have been an ignorant pawn in Darth Baras’ schemes and I am finally being called to do the thing I do not want to do, which is harm you. You are the love of my life. I don’t need to gush like a romantic fool to convince you of that, I hope, even now. You saved me from my pathetic existence on Balmorra, taught me to care, gave me a family again, such as the crew were. You gave me a real command. You recognized my gifts, understood my weaknesses. You brought excitement to my days. You shared my bed and for that … even death is too good for me as a way to repay you now for all you have given me. 

“So all I can offer is an explanation. When you were named the Emperor’s Wrath and charged with apprehending Baras, I started to grow sick with worry. My allegiance to him was done in that cave on Quesh, but he was and still is very powerful and very motivated to achieve his goals. But you continued to trust me, and frankly, my love, that angered me a bit. You were letting your feelings cloud your judgment, as I had warned you some months earlier. 

“Baras contacted me on Voss. I ignored his first two holocalls but by the third time, I was so worried, I felt compelled to answer. It was right after we’d argued about your support for Darth Serevin and I asked to be dismissed and head back to the ship. I know you were glad to get rid of me; I suppose that counted as our first fight. 

“Baras tore into me with a litany of charges against us both. _You_ were the servant of an absentee landlord, _you_ were bringing ruin to the Empire, _you_ were the one seeking glory and acclaim. _I_ had been weak to allow you to succeed. _I_ was behind Moff Broysc’s death … and when he finally hit on the truth, it broke me. 

“Oh, Xhareen, the poison in my mind has been terrifying. I feared losing it. Then, the recriminations against me, and subtly, against my family, began. Baras was gathering in the strings of his web and forming my noose. 

“When he told me I was to program the droids with the proper attack sequences for defeating you, I initially refused to do it. Baras laughed at me, calling me all sorts of unmanly names. He said that if I didn’t program the droids and follow through with his plan, he would kill you and he would not be quick about it. He would kill me similarly. He would go after my family and shame them. 

“I relented. I told him I would kill you in exchange for the lives of my family. He laughed. He knew I’d been disowned. He called me weak and selfish and cowardly but after he’d had his fun with me, accepted my terms. He clearly wanted to use me once again as his pet, and I vowed to play along. He promised to ‘fix’ the record of Druckenwell, but I’ve no idea how he planned to do that. I saw it as just another emotional ploy, to hold out the hope that I might be restored in my family’s good graces. 

“But all along, I was devising another plan. I sent Baras a slightly different program, one that looked as though you could be easily defeated. But I uploaded a different version to the droids. Their programming was good – just not good enough for you, assuming you to be at your own peak efficiency. I would also antagonize you, to make you angry and heighten the betrayal. I would strike at you during the attack, in hopes that you would strike me down. I would die and you would survive. 

“I cannot say I have hope that you can defeat Baras, but you never will if I am around to be used against you. It was the only way, my love, to thwart Baras and ensure the continuance of your legacy. 

“You have, therefore, survived the attack, as I had hoped. I deeply regret my actions. Perhaps this is the punishment I deserved all along. I know there has not been enough time for you to make good on your promise to restore me to the career path I was on before Druckenwell. But the months I have spent with you have made me consider success in different terms. I had hoped to make good on my own promise to marry you, to give you children, to restore to you the family you lost and preserve your legacy as a glory to the Empire. 

“I confess I still hold dangerous views … how disappointed I am that the Emperor allows the Sith to squabble and squander resources at a time when we should be united against the Republic. I know you are above such petty games, but I was weak enough to believe Baras was the strong leader we need now. But he is not. He is as you have said all along: selfish, vindictive, mean … no better than the worst of the Sith who are bringing us to the brink of ruin.” 

The monologue stopped briefly. Holo-Quinn shifted around, rubbed his temple, then his eyes, and continued. 

“Enough of my posturing. There is no excuse for what I have done. No excuse for putting either of us into this predicament. As with Broysc, I should have spoken up long ago about Baras, consequences be damned. But then the thought of you suffering at Baras’s hand … it is too much. I simply cannot see any other way out. 

“Perhaps I am weak, too weak for you. You obviously prevailed and I lost. If I am at rest, then I am content. If I am in prison, and not facing a death sentence, please, Xhareen, I beg of you, find some way to have me executed. You are resourceful enough to find a way to do it because even after 11 years, I doubt I could bear another day in prison.” 

Holo-Quinn paused, stood up straight and pulled his uniform jacket into place. Then, he saluted. 

“Xhareen, Lord of the Sith, I salute you. As a warrior, as a loyal Imperial, as the Emperor’s Wrath and as the love I found and the wife I lost. I hope someday you can forgive me. I hope someday you can put all the bad things I have done behind you, and remember the good. Tell the crew what you will, but please, I beg you, also tell them it was an honor to serve with them. All of them. 

“And tell Vette I will miss my assistant and little sister. I think she had already begun to forgive me for being such a jerk at first. I regret I cannot make up that time to her. 

“Jaesa, I don’t know what to say. I spent so long avoiding her, holding my breath, afraid she’d read me and see right through me, see that I was weak. It is a testament to her devotion to you that she did not. I regret I could not get to know her better because of my own failings. 

“Pierce. He’s a fine soldier. I hope the war brings him the chance to be his true self. He was an asset to the crew, and I hope you convey that to him. I didn’t like him, but I did respect him. 

“Broonmark. I wish I could have been as loyal to you as he was. His ideals are admirable, if a bit frightening. I could have learned a lot more from him. I should have learned a lot more from him. 

“I have blathered on long enough, even for me. I hope this explains things to you, my love. I cannot ask for your forgiveness, as it is not deserved. When it is possible, however, please find it in your heart to remember me fondly. 

“I am now, and shall always be, your Captain. Malavai Quinn, signing off.” 

And with that, the holo went dark. Xhareen sat down hard on the nearest chair, unsure of what exactly had been holding her up through Quinn’s entire speech. 

Vette was the first to break the silence. 

“My lord, I really think you’d better tell us what the frak is going on.”

 

 

**~~~~~END OF PART ONE~~~~~**


	23. New Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Imperial-controlled Corellian space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 starts here.

Zavaa shut down the monitor and looked away from the screen. Then she turned it back on. The pattern was still there, staring back at her, like the eyes of someone she should know but cannot place. Someone she simply wanted to forget.

If she wanted to sort this out, she’d need help. SCORPIO was in the middle of an iteration shift and declared herself unavailable for the next 24-hour-cycle. Zavaa wasn’t sure how she’d react, anyway, if this was indeed some echo of the same group that had brought the artificial lifeform into her life in the first place.

There was someone nearby she could ask for help. To clear her mind, she left the conference room and went to the bridge to use the comm panel there. 

She hailed the Covenant. Vette answered, looking cross. 

“Hello, Little Bird. Do you fancy some time out of the cage?” Zavaa was still amused at the code scheme her friend Xhareen and the frowning Twi’lek on the holo had devised. Maybe not professional, but it suited them both. 

Vette was on the Phantom within 15 minutes. 

“Thanks for rescuing me. Things aren’t so great on the mothership right now,” Vette told her. 

As Zavaa had feared, word had gotten out to Xhareen’s crew about Quinn’s misdeeds, and as Vette relayed, in the worst possible way. 

“You knew what he did, right? Xhareen told you?” 

“Yes, Xhareen told me the moment she got here. But you must accept she forgave him, out of strength, not weakness.” 

“Oh, I’m fine with it, mostly. I’m sadder for Quinn because he’s going to brood on it for too long, probably just kriff things up more. But Pierce is not at all fine with it and he just keeps stomping around the ship, not talking to anyone. When I suggested he report to the surface early, he just grumphed and walked away. Even Broonmark’s sad, and I’m not even sure how I can tell but I know.” 

Zavaa hadn’t met either of them, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the Talz, but if her proposal went forward, she’d have to soon enough. 

“Listen, Vette, I have two propositions: One, you help me analyze this data I’ve gathered that’s vexing me and two, convince Xhareen to move here to my ship as her base while she’s on Corellia.” 

“Ok, so the first I can totally do and the second, I’ll get to work on it. It will just be the four of us. Xhareen will hate leaving Toovee, but I programmed him to be a watchdog so he can protect the ship wherever she ends up docking it. 

“And speaking of watchdogs, don’t fret over Broonie. He’d rip through an entire army of Pubs to save Xhareen, but he’s really quiet and he eats in the cargo bay and cleans up the mess afterward, so you’ll hardly notice he’s here.”

 

~~~~~

 

It had been three days since her return and Pierce still had not said more than five words to her. At first, Xhareen found she had nothing left to deal with him. Telling everything to her dearest comrades had nearly broken her as badly as Quinn’s deception. 

Quinn holoed her briefly between jumps on the trip back to Dromund Kaas. There wasn’t time to say much, but she was happy to see his face. She tried to sound upbeat, but she suspected he wasn’t buying it. 

By the third day, though, she’d had enough of Pierce sneaking around when she wasn’t in sight and eating in the middle of the night. She waited until he snuck into the galley an hour after everyone else had eaten and cornered him. 

“I had Vette turn off the food processors before we dropped her off on the Phantom, so it’s ration bars or you talk to me, Pierce.” 

“Sorry, my lord. I suppose I haven’t expressed enough thanks for the promotion you got for me.” 

“Come on, you know that’s bantha crap. Say what you need to say.” 

“You made it clear, my lord, that the _incident_ was your business, not ours. Even though …” He opened a cabinet door and hid his face behind it. 

“Even though I put you in harm’s way because of it.” 

“No,” he said, slamming down the ration bar he pulled from the cabinet. “Quinn put us all in danger and you just gave him a pass.” 

She couldn’t argue with that. 

“You’re right. This time, anyway. I am sorry for not acknowledging that you were all in danger. I can’t apologize for Quinn, but you’ve also made it so he can’t, either.” She didn’t want to make this about accusing Pierce but he had built a wall around himself when it came to Quinn. Xhareen had never figured out what his real reason for hating Quinn so much was. 

“You got me there, my lord.” 

“Stop with the titles, Pierce. Clearly, I should have spoken to you long ago about this.” Add that to her growing list of regrets. 

“He was never good enough for you, Xhareen. You never saw that. He took advantage of you.” 

“And who would you suggest is good enough for me? Another Sith who’d slit my throat after a night of wild passion because he wanted my head as a trophy? A proper Pureblood who’d be ashamed to introduce an alien to his family? Whatever happened, make no mistake: I wanted Quinn and he wanted me, quite apart from our stations in the Empire.” 

“Took him long enough to admit it.” 

“Yes, it did. Irrelevant.” 

“But why did he do … that to you? Betray you. Don’t try to coat it in sweet sauce, either. He betrayed you.” 

Even coming from Pierce, those words hurt her all over again. “Because he didn’t think he was good enough for me, either. Does that make you happy to hear?” 

He just shook his head. Xhareen would never have changed things, except for the betrayal of course, but she wished there could have been a way she and this lumbering hulk could have been friends without spiting Quinn. 

“That wasn’t the worst of it, though. The real issue is that he didn’t think I could defeat Baras. That’s the only thing he’s done that I have issue with, and I am going to prove him wrong.” 

Xhareen knew a bit of Pierce’s background, some he’d shared, some Vette uncovered, but she’d never been able to put all the pieces together. Yes, his father was a bureaucrat on Ziost, and his parents separated. Did Quinn remind him so much of the old man that he could never even be civil to him?

“You hated him since before you even joined the crew. You hated Moff Hurdenn, although I can’t blame you for that. You have a problem with authority figures, but you stay in the military where there’s no escaping them. That’s always bothered me. You love a challenge, and taking out a nest of pubs is nothing compared to following an order to fill out a report or take a physical. I just don’t see that you’ve made any progress these past months, either. And that’s not Quinn’s fault, it’s mine. I take it for granted that things will work out, because they usually do. Most of that’s due to Quinn, and neither of us can deny it.” 

“As much as I’d like to, I won’t blame Quinn for everything. I suppose I should be flattered that he was a little jealous of me at first – don’t deny it. I know we’re not like that, but Quinn? If I had even smiled at you too long, he’d snarl at me like an unfixed akk dog. When he did that alpha dog thing to me on Taris, in front of that little bitch Hurdenn …” He wrung his hands like he was holding a neck and grunted. 

Xhareen couldn’t hold back laughing at that. Pierce cracked a smile, too. She knew there had to be a lonely little boy inside that huge chunk of armor, no matter how brave a face he put on everything. 

“Listen, I’m going to suggest something to you, same thing I said to Quinn before we reconciled: You need to find your sister, reconnect. I know she’s all you have left for family. When the Bastion is a smoking husk, put in for leave. Go say hello, if nothing else.” 

Pierce reached back in the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Xhareen wasn’t sure of its provenance, but it looked suspiciously like the bottles she saw on Hurdenn’s desk while on Taris. 

“Speaking of the old moffie, drinks are on him.” 

“So you’ve settled for a liquid dinner then?” she asked as she sat down at the small table in the galley. 

“Liquid appetizers, anyway. It’ll take a few minutes for the food processors to get back on line,” he replied, joining her. 

Xhareen nodded and called for Toovee, ordering him to re-start the processors.  

“You know I never figured out why a … why someone like Quinn never stayed in touch with his family,” Pierce said, then took a long drink from his glass. 

“You’re surprised. You thought he’d need to rely on them for credits, and connections.” 

“Yeah, not gonna lie there, boss.” 

Xhareen took a swig of her own drink. Whiskey wasn’t her favorite, but she had to admit, that womp rat Hurdenn knew good liquor if nothing else. 

“He was disowned after Druckenwell. His mother thought his disgrace would cost his sisters a shot at good marriages and careers. 

“Quinn has one weakness, and that’s how he sees himself. You see a privileged, uptight, authoritarian know it all. He looks in a mirror and sees someone with numerous imperfections who cannot measure up. He loved his family and lost them all in a matter of months. He blamed himself. He blamed himself for Baras using him to get to me. He carries around more guilt and self-loathing than either of us could ever bear, Pierce. 

“As for money and connections, I told Vette never to say anything about this, but Quinn spent 10 years of his commission pay, almost all of it, on that super slick hyperdrive we have that’s saved our hides more than once.” 

Pierce slammed his drink down. “Wow. I guess the only things to spend money on on Balmorra would be booze and broads and …” 

“Best not to finish that thought, Captain,” Xhareen said. But they were both smiling now. 

“You want me to cut him some slack?” 

“No. Yes. Maybe? I just think if you understand him, you will hate him less.” That would at least be a place to start. Xhareen had every intention of returning Pierce to her crew once Baras was dead and the Bastion job completed. 

“I know it seems like I’ve always given Quinn a pass. That I acceded to his whims, not the other way around. But that was never the case, I assure you. 

“What you never saw was how we argued about the ship and regulations before you got here. We’d worked so many things out by Taris. It wasn’t that I was capitulating. I made many things clear to him that I would not do, but he also showed me in more than a few situations that I needed to step up to be a leader, even if it was just over a small ship’s crew.” 

Pierce nodded. “I’ll have to admit: I know he cared about you. Just weird how he showed it sometimes is all.” 

“Isn’t that how all good relationships are?” 

He sat his drink down again, gently this time, and hung his head. “I’m not sure I’d know. Never had one.” 

That explained a lot. She knew he got off to the seedier parts of the various ports they set in, but probably not as often as he wanted to. In contrast to Quinn, whose lover simply moved into his quarters. 

“We can work on that later. First, you need to remind the Republic that we will rule Corellia, then you need to see your sister. Do those things, and I have a suspicion you’ll be in a place to find what you’re actually looking for.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. Haven’t been in a good place for a long time.” 

“We’ll get there, Pierce. We’ll both get there.” They clinked glasses. 

“And now, it’s time I gather up the remnants and we make our way to the Phantom.” 

“What about the Covenant? What are you going to do with it?” he asked. 

She smiled. “It’s all been arranged. You and Toovee will fly it down to the planet. The spaceport in Coronet City is secured for our side and I’ve promised Darth Decimus I would help him bring the rest of the main continent in line once I take care of Baras in exchange for protecting my ship.” 

Pierce frowned. “Doesn’t sound like much of a bargain for you, my lord.” 

She raised her glass, then downed what was left in it. “That’s what we get as Sith, Pierce. We take crap and we make mythra out of it.” 

That is exactly what she planned to do.

 


	24. Not Quite Home

The flight to Dromund Kaas seemed to take a month. Quinn wanted to holo Xhareen between every hyperspace jump, but decided against it. At the halfway point, however, he could no longer resist.

  
She looked drained. She wouldn’t say why, though Quinn suspected the crew were bothering her for explanations about what happened on the Yaroe Star and on the Phantom. He ached to comfort her, knowing this was all his fault. She tried to put on a brave face, but he knew better. Still, their time together was short, just a few minutes, so he wasn’t going to waste it by pressing her.

  
She indicated she had not yet been contacted by the Hand, although since this was not a secure channel, she called them her Guardians. He wasn’t sure which term was more unsettling. Xhareen had assured Quinn several times that she sensed no lies, only hidden truths. She accepted that as part of service to a being as powerful as their Emperor.

  
Quinn admired her loyalty, but once again, he felt an intense disquiet about their supreme leader. Baras was wrong, he reminded himself, to try to subvert the Emperor and elevate himself. He was too unstable, too self-centered to be anything but a glorified spymaster.

  
But something about the Emperor himself still did not sit right with Quinn. He would serve the Empire gladly, give his life, sacrifice his ambitions as he had already done … none of that loyalty was in question. But what did it say about him that when he peeked under the covers of the Empire he loved and saw its supposed heart that he was sickened by it?

  
That nagging worry and his longing for Xhareen were entirely to blame for making the trip seem much longer than it was. He’d ended the call to Xhareen on a positive note, navigating away from the touchy topic of her new “Guardians.” She did not hesitate to say “I love you” and “I miss you,” which helped to lighten his mood. He promised he would call as soon as possible once he got to Dromund Kaas.

  
Last time he was there – the last time he was home, he reminded himself – had been when Xhareen was still in Baras’s good stead. She’d assassinated Darth Vengean, who Quinn would find out later had been responsible for setting in motion the events that had flung her into the fighting pits on Hutta. Baras took all the credit, and the council seat, and Xhareen hadn’t minded, which Quinn found eerily like his own attitude about the events of Druckenwell, before Moff Broysc had him court-martialed.

  
Was that when Baras, like Broysc, had decided to discard Xhareen as well? Had the love of his life, his wife, become a disposable tool just like he had? Did service really require so much sacrifice from so many pawns? Was that all they would ever be?

  
Quinn loathed spending so much time fretting, so he spent several hours each day in the officers’ common area. He had not been briefed on how much he should mingle with his troops before they were officially in his charge, so he tried to keep a low profile. He knew everyone knew who he was, he wasn’t going to delude himself otherwise. He participated in, but did not exert any control over, several sporting games that sprung up.

  
For now, at least, rank was unimportant. He was just a face in the crowd. He felt good.

  
~~~~

The training, Quinn learned as the Black Talon approached the capital world, would take place in a new facility built well outside of the Kaas City core, at least a three-hour shuttle ride away. It had its own spaceport, just large enough to handle incoming shuttles. The layout was efficient and the climate a bit less stifling, although it was the cool season as well. Quinn thanked the Maker silently for the arrangements.

  
The first commanders’ briefing was set for six hours after they landed. That gave Quinn enough time to take a long, hot water shower, his first in many weeks. Sonic showers were efficient but hardly soothing. He’d joked with Xhareen about seeing the quartermaster to replace his hat, but he found he actually did need to do that, as equipment assignments were left up to each officer.

  
He arrived a half hour early for the meeting. A general introduced himself as General Exumm, newly assigned from Ziost personnel HQ. “I’d like a word with you first, Major, before the meeting.

  
“There’s a new initiative and, erm, your background indicates you are an excellent candidate to help test it.”

Quinn bowed his head. “I would be honored, General.”

  
“Ah, good. Good. I’m sure you’re aware that, in recent years, the Empire has opened its doors to select alien races to integrate them into Imperial life. As they have mostly settled on Ziost, and there have been surprisingly few problems, High Command has decided to allow the finest candidates to enlist in military service.”

  
The general removed his cap. Quinn noticed a line of sweat beads on the man’s forehead.

  
“Are you uncomfortable with that development, sir?”

  
“No! Not at all, son. There’s just a delicate matter about your, erm, background that has come up.”

  
Now it was Quinn’s turn to feel uneasy. Was he to be plagued about Druckenwell still? Or had Baras perhaps sowed some seed of distrust among Quinn’s new superiors in lieu of a physical attack?

  
“I assure you, sir, I will answer any questions you might have.”

  
“It’s a delicate matter about your previous assignment. The Sith. You filed marriage papers and there have been some high-level discussions about it. Her lineage has been debated, but since she is Sith, nothing more is said openly.”

  
“Sir, rest assured that Lord Xhareen, my wife, would not mind me discussing the facts. She is Miralukan, born on an Imperial colony world and entirely loyal. She passed her trials on Korriban, but after a falling out with her master, she now serves at the pleasure of the Emperor directly. Is there some other problem?” Perhaps that was Baras’s handiwork, sowing dissent about Xhareen instead.

  
“No, that’s fine. Good, good. I’m all for this initiative. You’re the perfect officer for it, too. I understand your Sith had aliens among her crew as well, which is good. The Empire’s been too closed off for too long, and we don’t have an unlimited supply of humans to support a never-ending conflict. And we know the Sith don’t want their offspring enlisting, even the Force blind ones they try to hide. But still, let’s keep this part of the discussion amongst ourselves. We wouldn’t want word of this to get to the grand moff.”

  
Now Quinn was puzzled. He knew Xhareen had spoken directly with Grand Moff Regus and had indicated the man was warm, open to her request and sympathetic.

  
“So, anyway,” the general continued. “We would like to embed some of these alien recruits, some of whom have training and experience, into your battalion. Actually, we have gone ahead and done that. It’s not like you have a choice; it’s more like I wanted to give you a head’s up.”

  
Quinn bowed again. “General, I would be honored. Not just on behalf of my alien Sith wife, but for the Empire.”

  
Before Exumm could say another word, the meeting hall doors opened and a familiar face appeared. He was in full uniform, a sergeant’s uniform so new, Quinn thought it might crack if the young blond man bent his elbow.

  
But when he saw Quinn, he smiled and raised his hand to wave. “Hello, sirs,” he called out. Nothing cracked, except maybe Quinn’s perception of reality.

  
It was Jillins, the “cock up corporal” from Balmorra. “Meeting will begin in 15 minutes, sirs. I can get you seated and will be handing out the meeting briefing materials shortly.” He waved again at Quinn, who suddenly found his feet glued to the floor.  
“Ah, so you know young Jillins, then? But he’s family, isn’t he? Your uncle, Admiral Drayden, got the boy a proper assignment after Balmorra fell to shit. Said front line work wasn’t his best use, so he put the boy in admin and he’s done well. Very organized. Said his cousin taught him everything. Which looks good for you, Major. Easier for some to swallow than a Sith for a wife.”

  
Quinn nodded, and without realizing he could move again, started to follow General Exumm into the hall.

  
~~~~  
The meeting went smoothly. Dry and boring, just like Quinn liked his meetings. He was given an amount of material that would take three days to read and told to have it committed to memory overnight. Not that anyone would test him on it, but Quinn welcomed the challenge. He met his officers, all humans he noted, except for a Chiss who would be his chief medical officer.

  
When it came time to meet his enlisted personnel, he realized this grand new initiative wasn’t all that grand. Of the 500 or so troops, he counted 14 aliens. Though in a nice surprise twist, there was yet another familiar face from Balmorra.

  
He was expecting to hear a hearty “How ya doin, loo?” but instead, his Twi’lek squad leader, Sgt. Drix’el, saluted.

  
“How are you, Sergeant? It’s good to see you well.”

  
“Proud to be here, sir!” he said, staying at full attention.

  
“We’ll talk later, Sergeant. Set up an appointment with my adjutant.” Which Quinn suddenly realized, he had no idea who that was. But if he had been assigned one, he was certain Drix’el would know who it was already.

  
~~~  
Quinn finally was assigned a temporary office space. He sat behind the small plasteel desk and reviewed his command roster. He did not have an assistant or adjutant assigned. An idea struck him.

  
~~~

  
_Balmorra, many months earlier_

  
Xhareen sent Vette to determine what it was that had set Lt. Quinn to light into that young pale corporal so vehemently. Because in the six days since they’d landed on this planet, the man had shown nothing remotely like an emotion, despite her best efforts.

  
About an hour later, her holo chimed. It was Vette.

  
“Cantina. Quick,” was all she said before disappearing.

  
Xhareen made her way to the far side of the Sobrik base. The taxi service was prompt and, since it was staffed by military personnel, free. Good thing, because the base was the size of a small city and it was no short hike to the cantina.

  
When she got there, she saw Vette talking to a rather tall and strikingly handsome Twi’lek in Imperial duty clothes. He bore no rank insignia, however. He had the dark yellow skin that was common among the natives here, but he was the only other alien customer in the bar besides Xhareen and Vette. He had a barely touched local ale in front of him.

  
Vette was the first to speak, and remembering her manners, introduced the stranger to Xhareen. “This is Sergeant Drix’el, a Balmorran native who fights for the Empire and works under our mysterious lieutenant.”

  
Vette poked him with her elbow. “Tell her what you told me.”

  
“Sure, and may I say, it’s awfully nice to meet you, my lord,” he said. Xhareen smiled, unable to help herself.  


  
“So anyway, the poor sod in the loo’s sights that day was Corporal Darvas Jillins. I’m afraid I’m the one who got him into trouble, but that’s my job."

"Loo?" Xhareen asked.

  
“Oh, short for lieutenant. Quinn’s a top-notch soldier, especially for someone forced to do so much desk jockey work. Jillins is his cousin of some sort, from the same military family from DK. We don’t exactly have the personnel to spare after 10 years of fighting rebels, so even the desk jockeys have to put time in the field.

  
“Poor Darvas was a terrible recruit for a place like Balmorra. No idea how he got sent here. He can’t bring himself to use his weapons, so Quinn spends hours teaching him. Shooting wildlife, using simulators, everything.

  
“Quinn figures, and I admit, I agreed, the best way to test him was to take the boy out on patrol. Was supposed to be routine. Turned out to be anything but.

  
“We get to this remote village, map says it’s Imp friendly. I take Jillins on point with me to see if that’s the case. Nice meal, warm bed, sounds like a good way to spend the night. Rest of the squad tags along a little way back, covering our six.  
“I’m distracted because from what I can see, this village is home to the most beautiful Twi’lek girls outside of Ryloth and my little blue sister here. We get no farther than the outer gate when one of the yokels comes toward us with a grenade in his hands. Jillins gets his blaster out, sets up an easy shot, but can’t take it.

  
“Survival instinct, or dumb luck, I see him and take him down before he can toss his creation at us. Fortunately, two of the squad members certified in demolitions, they make sure it’s safe. But it caused a stir, so I had to report it to Quinn.”

  
Xhareen could see it now. Quinn would certainly not tolerate incompetence, especially if it made him look bad, too. But he probably also couldn’t get over the possibility of losing an entire squad in the process.

  
“What can you tell me about Quinn? He’s so intense. Almost too competent for a posting like this.”

  
Drix’el laughed. “I don’t know the whole story. I just know that every time he puts in for a promotion, the brass gives him more duties and sometimes more live bodies to command. But he never gets the title or the bigger paycheck. The Empire’s got majors here who have less to do, lots of them in fact. The loo reports to at least three of them, doing the work they get credit for.”

  
Vette squirmed in her seat and eyed Xhareen hard. It did seem to confirm what she’d learned about Quinn while they dawdled in the spaceport cantina the day they landed.

  
Drix’el lit up. “I guess my little sister here has figured something out, am I right?” he said, moving closer to her.

  
“Stow it, slick. I’m not into any of that. Save your flirting for the wait staff.”

  
“Actually, sergeant, we must be going. I’m expecting a call from my master and I’d like to avoid him seeing me having a good time.”

  
“We’ll have to do this again some time then,” he said.

  
“You should stand at attention for my Sith friend,” Vette said.

  
He did, and even saluted.

  
“Charming, sergeant, but not necessary,” Xhareen said.

  
“So what the kriff?” Vette asked as soon as they got outside. “Darth No Face isn’t set to chime in as far as I’ve heard.”

  
Xhareen pulled her closer and whispered “No, I just want to get back to a secure terminal and let you see what else you can find out.”

  
Vette shook her head, letting her lekku follow. “So, you want the rundown on Professor Cheesy or Lieutenant Cheekbones?”

  
“Whatever you can get on both of them, and this Jillins, too.”

  
~~~

  
Jillins listened to Quinn’s proposal, then waited a respectable moment before saying “I’d be honored to serve you, sir.” No gushing, no apologizing. The intervening months had matured him. Quinn was pleased.

  
“Then it’s settled. But you’ll go through the training with the rest of the battalion, all of it. Shooting, survival, operations, all of it, you do understand?” Quinn needed to make sure he did.

  
“I do. I’m not the same fool who messed up so badly on Balmorra, sir. What we went through those final days, before the command center fell to the rebs … I grew up a lot. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for your training and Drix’el’s, sir.”

  
Quinn clapped the boy on the back. “Listen, Darvas, when we are alone, and I mean one on one here in this or any other office, you can drop the formality. We are still family, after all.”

  
The young man smiled. “Yes, Cousin Malavai, we are.”

  
One family bridge crossed, Quinn thought. _I’ll have to remember to tell Xhareen_.

  
~~~~~

  
Quinn had one more task before he could settle in for the night. It was a gamble, but hopefully not a pointless one. He dashed off the email and fell quickly into a deep sleep.

 

Captain Pierce,

I’m certain you don’t want to hear from me,but I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion. It is well deserved, and about time High Command realized the need for black ops.

I know we did not get along, and I am sure you despise me even more now, knowing what you know about me, but if I ever conveyed anything less than my respect for your particular military talents, please forgive me for that at least.

I did what I thought best for everyone, Lord Xhareen first and foremost, but it was all wrong. I have to live with that forever now, and that is, believe me, the worst possible punishment.

If your missions bring you together, please, take care of her for me. And if not for me, then for the Empire.

Yours,  
Major Malavai Quinn

 

The next morning, a reply was waiting:

 

Quinn,

Won’t deny that I still want to punch you in the face. Sir. Or that I wanted to snap your neck when I heard about the incident. Didn’t want to believe Lord Xhareen’s original story, even though she was pretty convincing. Saw that simulation. Won’t deny I wasn’t happy to see you broken.

But then we all saw your holo. Still wanted to snap your neck, but I had to admit what you did took balls. She loves you, that much is clear, and I have to respect that, too.

Now I’m expected to be a leader when I’m not in the field. Guess I have a bit more respect for what you did on the ship. Only took me one bloody requisition form to figure it out. Damn things can turn anybody into a prick. But I need to make sure everyone on my team gets home safe. I get it now.

Anyway, I will look out for our lord. Want to be able to get drunk at your wedding. And then maybe I’ll have an excuse to punch you in the face.

Sir.

Pierce.


	25. A Startling Development

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential trigger from here going forward for pregnancy issues.

Xhareen and Vette bunked in the same cabin she had shared with Quinn. Jaesa took a smaller cabin, leaving Broonmark his camp cot from the Covenant in a corner of the cargo bay. He was too tall for the bunk beds in the crew quarters, empty now that the two temporary officers had also been redeployed to Corellia. Broonmark assured Xhareen it was fine, although he thought he should remain closer to his Sith. She hugged him, telling him this ship was the safest in the galaxy at the moment. He grunted. He would obey.

It took her more than an hour to settle down and get to sleep. Moments later, she could hear the hull ripping apart before she saw it. Malavai called out her name before he disappeared through the gash that was now healing itself, closing him out into space. She felt the ship moving away, prepping for a jump, so she would never be able to even find his body. 

_You’ll be alone forever now_ , she heard Baras say. 

She sat up and gasped. It was the dream again. Her lungs felt as though they were full of cortosis fibers and it hurt to draw air for a minute. 

Vette was awake and by her side almost immediately. “I don’t care what time it is, I don’t care who’s asleep and who isn’t. I’m taking you to the medbay and Dr. Lokin is going to examine you and you are going to let him.”

All she could do is nod. She let Vette put a robe around her shoulders, and went to the medbay without any complaints.

But Xhareen knew what was coming. The previous two days, still worn from revealing the painful truth to the crew, she’d barely eaten. Whenever she tried, she would have to slip away to the refresher to throw up, sometimes more than once, until she was as empty in body as she felt in her soul. 

_It can’t be_ , she thought. _It just can’t be._

~~~~~

She slept without dreaming while Dr. Lokin worked. He woke her gently and when she sat up, he took her hands into his to deliver the news. He was smiling, she was not. 

“How can it be, doctor? I took a yearly stim the last time we visited Dromund Kaas, and that was much less than a year ago.” She’d wanted to be sure she was covered, even though she and Quinn hadn’t even been intimate yet. 

“My best guess? The contraceptives on Dromund Kaas are formulated for humans. You’re not human. And that doesn’t even cover your Sith metabolism. The best way I can describe it is, your system burned through the hormones much faster than they should have.”

“No one told me that could happen.”

He gripped tighter. Xhareen wanted to pull her hands away, but she knew she couldn’t. Life now had a grip on her much stronger than the aging doctor did. 

“Life happens, my dear. And it’s happened to you. Good thing you and your captain made up.”

_Malavai_. How in the galaxy was she going to tell him? Not over the holo. Certainly not by email. And Maker only knew when they’d be together again. How could things get any more complicated?

“We’ll talk more in the morning. You go rest, because I’m going to have to quiz you about Miralukan physiology.”  


She knew a much better resource. But she’d tell him about that later. 

~~~~~

She told no one else. Dr. Lokin made some suggestions about dietary changes and a safe, mild anti-nausea drug. By late morning, she was hungry again, and kept her food down. 

Two days after getting the news, she typed on her datapad and routed the message through the ship’s bespoke security system.

\---------------

Malavai,

I thought I should write and inform you that I have given your medical files from the Covenant to Dr. Lokin. It seems he has made learning about Miralukan biology a pet project, meaning he has made me his pet project, and you managed to amass more information about my physiology, etc… than he had ever had access to. I know I don’t need to ask, I just thought I should. 

I would be remiss not to add that Dr. Lokin is most impressed with some of your formulations and discoveries. He insists you could have had a stellar career in medicine. I had a sudden thought of visiting a Dr. Malavai Quinn for a **thorough** examination and doing my best to make him blush. 

That’s when it hit me, Malavai, that we were meant to be together. If you had been a doctor, or a gardener, or a Czerka Corp executive, we would have met, of that I am sure. You are uncomfortable with the concept of Fate, and I still find that adorable about you. But at some point, I simply cannot continue to reject the notion that we are perfect for one another. Our troubles and our separation only confirm that to me. 

I apologize I have been so long in coming to this realization. I am lonely without you. I miss my captain. I was combing through the HoloNet yesterday and I think I have found someone to distract me while we are apart. Photo attached.

Yours,  
Xhareen  


\---------------

Back on Dromund Kaas, in his makeshift office, Quinn stared at the screen. _What kind of Sith cruelty was this?_ She protests her love for him, and then taunts him that she’s taking a lover?

Quinn clicked on the attachment. Up popped an image. His image. His official identification picture in his major’s uniform.

_Damn that woman. She got me again._

He sent off a reply.  


\---------------

My Lord Xhareen,

Are you telling me you would have fallen in love with a mere gardener? This concerns me. I await your reply.

M.  


\---------------

My captain,

I can only assume the first time I would have seen you, you would have been bent over tending a plant. So yes, I still would have fallen in love with you. But I would still be, as I am to this day, unable to determine your best side.

X  


\---------------

My beloved,

You still can make me blush. Perhaps I should re-examine my resistance to the concept of Fate.

M.  


\---------------

Malavai,

Your resistance kept me going for a very long time. As did your blushes. 

X.  


\---------------

Xhareen,

There are days when I regret not succumbing to your charms, and my true feelings, sooner. Might we have averted so much unpleasantness if I had given myself to you when I first realized that I wanted you? In all seriousness, we should discuss this face to face. There are times when I get myself lost in the “what ifs” and I could use your insight. I realize this is a most inconvenient time, but perhaps we can be together on Corellia before things get too complicated. 

Your captain  


\---------------

_Oh, Malavai, if you only knew how complicated things already were._ Xhareen dashed off a “We’ll be together as soon as I can make it happen” reply and signed off. Still, it was good to have shared a few moments with him even if it was just through electrons.

She was still thinking about all the ways she could make Quinn blush next time they were together when Vette came onto the bridge. “I’ve got comms from the Covenant routed here, naturally, and our spooky friends are on the line.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quinn's not really being a snob about the gardener remark; he's had his inbred snobbery beaten out of him by Life by this point. He's just using it for comical reasons.


	26. A Past, Fleshed Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild, game-appropriate violence
> 
> Setting: Dromund Kaas, approximately 3682 BBY

Salas Bortin was a good bladesman as a student but he was never lithe of body, so no one took him seriously. Even his instructors, fools that they were, never realized the stocky boy from a poor family didn’t care so much for winning as he did about finding his opponent’s weakness. One surprise jab was more satisfying than a skillful victory. 

Not that he wasn’t without those, but he found he preferred finding ways to prolong the game over winning outright and quickly.

Then there was Drayus Parvin, an upperclassman, tall and pale like a good Imperial from a wealthy family. He called the younger Bortin “Bubble” due to his shape. “I suppose you plan to be Lord Bubble one day,” the boy would taunt. “Darth Bubble, even.” Their matches seemed to always be fought to a draw. During training sessions, this was acceptable. 

Bortin took the insults as silent blows, never reacting to them in public. He ignored the other boys laughing at him, too. He had surprising physical stamina for his size, which he and his tutors attributed to his growing Force strength. Still, they underestimated him. 

One day, in finals matches, Bortin and Parvin were called out to fight. Parvin immediately began his routine, taunting, followed by showy moves. Bortin waited. He was patient. A quick jab to the vest to light up Parvin now and then. Taking harder hits but remaining upright. Always on his feet. _That’s the advantage of my size_ , he thought. _And I always take advantage._

Darth Vengean, newly elevated to that rank, chose that moment to walk in. He was casting about for an apprentice, it had been said. Headed to the Dark Council someday, that same someday the Sith would reintroduce themselves to the rest of the galaxy, come out of hiding, get the retribution they so heartily desired upon the Jedi and their Republic. 

Vengean was such an obvious choice of a name, so coarse, but then, that had been his purpose in taking it. He was a blunt instrument, ruthless, and he never pretended to be otherwise. 

Parvin took notice of their new audience member. He turned on the show, with flourishing strokes of the dampened vibroblades the top acolytes at the academy trained with. He could have cemented his place in the top tier of students, those most likely to be chosen to become Sith, with a convincing victory in front of their guest. Bortin kept up, though he let his opponent get a strike or two in. He just made sure Parvin saw him smile after every point. 

“I’ll slap that smile off your face, Bubble. How could you even think Vengean would look at a slave like you?” Parvin seethed near the end of the first round. Parvin was so busy trying to break Bortin’s cool that he didn’t realize he’d been taken to the edge of the fighting platform. He was on his back a second later. 

Finals match rules stated that anyone who fell off the platform could choose to take a simple defeat and return for another match in that same round, or they could continue the fight and if they won, earn a bye. If the overseers suspected that a fall had been faked, they could flunk a student immediately, banishing them from the academy and from ever becoming Sith. And since the drop was more than a meter, continuing the fight for the displaced fighter usually meant doing so with an injury. 

None of the students in attendance had ever seen one of their classmates charged with faking a fall. 

Bortin went over to extend his hand to Parvin. “I can get up on my own, Bubble,” he said. 

“That’s not what I heard from Korga,” Bortin whispered, just loud enough for the first row of participants to hear. “Heard you needed quite a bit of help getting up.” There were a few sniggers that ceased when Parvin turned around and shushed them, reigniting his blade and threatening them with it. 

Bortin hadn’t enjoyed the sexual encounters he’d had, enduring them more to take notes about the participants than for any real pleasure. Korga and Parvin were both wealthy scions from Kaas City families, Korga’s an ancient Sith Pureblood line and Parvin’s equally as likely to produce military leaders as Force sensitives. It pleased a lot of the students, boys and girls, to think of the two of them shagging.

But now he was smiling at Parvin’s humiliation. Defeating his smug opponent wouldn’t take long now, he knew. This day was going to be better than he could have imagined. 

Parvin got back up on the platform, favoring his offhand shoulder just slightly and a look of pure hatred on his face. Bortin began to strike toward that side, causing Parvin to turn from his normal stance. Hate and sweat in his eyes, he widened his own strokes, Bortin meeting each swing with his own blade. The air became sharp and alive with the crackling electricity in the air. 

Two more hits on his wounded shoulder, and Parvin was seething, a faint orange glow hovering around his upper body. Bortin knew enraging him was dangerous, but he also knew his opponent had no ability to control that rage. A far more perfect weapon than an inferior vibrosword. 

“Careful, Parvin. You’ll have nothing left for tonight if you blow it all now.”

“Like you’d know anything about that, Bubble. You probably were watching. That’s how you get off, isn’t it?” There were a few sniggers from the front rows again. 

“I can’t get off watching nothing happen.”

“Why don’t you watch Vengean take me for his apprentice, then.” Parvin lunged, but his antagonist easily parried. 

“Just like you getting an erection, that’s not going to happen.” 

Parvin dove in for an attack, but Bortin stepped aside, causing Parvin to lose his footing and fall down. One more fall, on or off the platform, and the match would be Bortin’s.

Parvin’s face had gone red. He tried to take a deep breath, but while they waited for the official timer to resume, Bortin continued his verbal barrage. 

“Don’t worry, Parvin. You’re not as stupid as you look. No one could be.”

Once again, Parvin lunged and this time scored a direct hit on Bortin’s vest. The board lit up with a point that finally put Parvin ahead. He grunted out a cheer. Bortin just smiled. 

“What do you know! You at least show a little passion every time you touch me,” Bortin said. 

“There are two good things about your body, Bubble. It’s an easy target, and it’s nowhere near as ugly as your face.” Parvin seemed pleased with himself for that comeback. A few more laughs rippled through the whole room this time. 

Bortin started with a flurry of strikes that Parvin parried, although by the end, both boys had begun to sweat and breathe hard. 

Bortin pointed his weapon down and motioned with his offhand for his opponent to lean in. “It’s OK, your mother never sees my face when she’s sitting on it, anyway.” 

At that remark, Parvin leaned back and howled, storming to the far edge of the fighting platform. Bortin knew the boy’s parents, like most of the aristocracy, were hardly monogamous. But he’d hacked Parvin’s emails and read that, for reasons not mentioned directly, his parents were having “a rough patch” and his mother had moved to their resort home several months ago. Bortin assumed it was due to one parent taking one liberty too many with a lover on the side. 

“A worm like you has no right to insult a noble of the Empire! You’re just trash. You’re worse than a slave, at least slaves do something useful!” 

Then Parvin tossed his vibrosword to the ground and lunged for Bortin, so he figured his assumption was spot on. 

Attacking an unarmed combatant with a weapon was frowned upon, so in the second or so he had to make a decision before getting trampled, he dropped his weapon and waited for the hit. He had hoped to make Parvin fall from the impact, thereby winning the match. 

But Parvin came at him and before Bortin could maneuver him aside, Parvin took a swing, which Bortin took on the jaw. Fisticuffs were also frowned upon during matches, but this was now a matter of honor. He didn’t want Vengean to think him weak. He landed a blow on Parvin’s face, breaking his nose. 

The assembled students began to cheer wildly, shouting their names, now split evenly between the two combatants. 

Parvin pulled back, staring wildly at the blood on his hands, as one of the overseers, a burly, golden-eyed human named Selvor, moved in to break up the fight. He ordered the boys to stop, but Parvin’s rage was too far gone to control. He ignored the order and ran toward Bortin. 

The two boys engaged again, this time falling to the floor while trading body blows. Their thick synthleather vests took most of the impacts. Selvor kneeled to pull Parvin off Bortin, but as he did, Parvin knocked him sideways and off the stage. 

“Stop right now!” the overseer bellowed, after landing atop several unfortunate students. Bortin, knowing the gesture would be for naught, put his arms out and tapped the stage. “I concede,” he yelled. The match would be tossed out regardless, but it made Bortin look compliant at the orders of an angry overseer – tactically, a wise move. 

“You’re … not … kriffing … getting away from me, Bubble. I will end you. I will end your pathetic family.” Parvin continued to land blows on Bortin’s midsection.

Overseer Selvor had picked himself up and jumped back up on the stage. He tried to pull Parvin off again, but when he got the boy standing, the boy took a swing and hit him in the face. 

Selvor pushed him back and ordered him to stand down. But the red glow surrounding Parvin’s form told everyone that would probably not happen. The crowd in the room grew suddenly silent – there was not even a gasp as Parvin lunged right for Selvor.

But by the time the boy reached him, Selvor had ignited his light saber and, with no further warnings, ran the aggressor through. Any attack on an overseer, public or private, could legitimately be met with lethal force, no questions asked. 

The beam of plasma disappeared, and Parvin’s corpse fell to the ground. The students began to swiftly and silently leave the room.

But one person moved forward. 

This was the day Darth Vengean found his apprentice. 

~~~~~  
As the remaining students filed out, a few of them nodded in Bortin's direction but most looked away as quickly as possible. That was fine with him. He always preferred to be feared, rather than loved. Fear he could control. Love made people stupid. 

Darth Vengean, a human male in his mid-to-late 20s, walked over to Bortin. He took him aside and pointed his unlit light saber at him. 

“I’ll be honest with you, boy, you’ll never be a master fighter with one of these.”

Bortin could scarcely hide his disappointment. He thought he fought well. "Yes, my lord, but I’m not bad, either.”

Vengean laughed. At him. "Not bad is not good enough, but no matter. I say again: You’ll never kill anyone with your skills waving around a light saber. No, your strength will be in getting your victim to walk right onto one.” 

_That wasn’t so bad_ , Bortin thought. _At least he thinks me strong in some way. And I will show him._

“You can make something out of yourself, despite your upbringing,” Vengean considered. “Oh yes, I’m well aware of who you are. You got here because you showed Force sensitivity and a mean streak at a young age. That’s all I’m looking for. I don’t care which of your grandparents was a slave.

“I will give you that chance, boy. But I will also give you something else. A name. If you become my apprentice, you will take the name Baras.”

Bortin bowed. “I would be honored, my lord.” He would have to find out just what that name signified. Already, it was time to plot how he could control, perhaps overthrow, his sudden new master. It would take time, no doubt. But Salas Bortin was patient, very patient. 

“If you fail me, or betray me, you will be killed and your name will be erased from existence. But you will not fail me. You will help me ascend to the Dark Council, and I will grant you whatever your dark heart desires.”

Bortin smiled. Not even a brute like Vengean could fathom the depths of his ambition. But he – Baras now – would take whatever his new master had to offer.


	27. The Path is Made Clear

Xhareen and her remaining crew had just settled into their place on the Phantom, when SCORPIO hailed her from the bridge.

“Sith, I’m detecting a forced transmission from Korriban. I’ve intercepted it, naturally, but I can forward it through safely if you wish.”

As she exited the cabin, she called out, “Go ahead, SCORPIO, I know who it is.”

She headed to the conference room and Darth Baras’s figure soon resolved itself before her.

“Clever masking, child. I’m almost impressed. Consider yourself fortunate that you accepted my transmission, and even more so that I am reaching out like this.”

“What do you want, Baras? You do know you’re keeping me from my task of killing you, right?”

“I am beyond your reach and therefore, beyond concern. I’m here to tell you that you are being deceived. The organization you work for is not the Emperor’s Hand.”

“Says the man who tried to kill me twice.”

“I don’t blame you for doubting me and I will not apologize for all my actions. I am the Voice of the Emperor. And there is a reason for all we do. In the end, what you think does not matter. So believe what you will. But your handlers have you in over your head. Sticking your wet nose in darth business.”

All she could think to say in return was how much she wanted to stick her light saber in a darth again, but she refrained.

“You are not the Voice, and the reason you do everything is perfectly clear. But you’re right, what I think does not matter. I know the Emperor’s essence. I have been closer to him than you ever have. And it is he who wants you dead, at least as much as I do.”

She couldn’t see behind his mask, but she could see his body tense as he shifted his weight, taking a moment to think up a lie, no doubt.

“Your anger has blinded you,” he spat. Xhareen wondered yet again if he even realized she wasn’t human, that “blindness” meant nothing to her.

“Perhaps my master is the one to blame for that, then. But no, I see all too clearly.”

"I know who you are, apprentice. The Tempest. Student of Darth Neveris, your true master."

So he had figured it out. Tremel had promised her anonymity when he recruited her, arranging a false identity designed to bore a power-hungry puppet master like Baras to tears. Somehow, though, her nemesis had seen behind her mask. Not surprising, but it added a new layer of threat to the mission. He’d cracked Quinn to use against her; now there were others he could use, too.

“Darth Neveris was a better Sith than you could ever hope to be. And you should be thankful. It was on his behalf I killed your master for you.”

Baras let out his fake laugh. Honestly, did tyrant hopefuls go to school, just to learn that laugh? “Proving once again you know nothing, and are in over your head.” But this was not an empty boast, she realized.

“Say what you mean, Baras. We are far past the time for games.”

“You never learned who led the attack on the compound that day, did you?”

He was right about that. She and the other survivors had fled so quickly once the shooting began, they hadn’t stopped to see who was doing it. Neveris had prepared them for such an occurrence; they knew about Sith politics and that some were vehemently opposed to aliens in the ranks, no matter how loyal or how strong they might be.

“Really, you want to take credit for that now? All the records showed you were nowhere near the outer forest that day.”

“Records can be doctored, youngling. I did as my master ordered, in all things, knowing that someday, I would best him. And if it meant slaughtering children, well …” he shrugged, although it was a gesture as fake as his laugh.

“Enough, Baras. You were already going to pay for your misdeeds. Why taunt me now?”

He picked up a datapad and began to look through it. Without picking up his head, he said, “Ownership of Neveris’s property fell to Vengean and then to me. Walk away now, and perhaps our previous animosities can be swept aside. And I will cede Neveris’s land to you.”

She knew he had no intention of doing any such thing, and any arrangement would lead her into a trap.

“I’m not falling for it, Baras. I will claim what is mine over your smoking corpse. Until that time, do not contact me again.”

She motioned to SCORPIO to close the channel and it was done.

It was time. Baras's end was at hand.

Xhareen assembled her crew -- Jaesa, Vette, Broonmark and Vector, who asked to be included -- and they crammed into the Phantom's shuttle and awaited clearance from Imperial High Command in Coronet City.

When they arrived, Xhareen was struck by the orderly chaos in the building. It wasn't nearly as tall as a typical structure in Kaas City, but it spread out over several blocks. She could imagine needing trams on the inside to get from one end to the other.

As a Sith, and thanks to Darth Decimus's influence, she and her crew were granted a small operations room from which to work. No one asked the nature of her business there, and she wasn't going to offer to anyone that she had come as part of a months' long effort to relieve the Dark Council member in charge of the entire war effort. It might not have gone badly, given all the complaining she heard about ill-conceived mission objectives and troop deployments, but she wasn't about to test it, either.

The room was secured, Vette decreed after a 10-minute scan. She installed the comm bypass device that allowed the Hand to contact them anywhere and within moments, the hooded figure of Servant One appeared.

"Wrath, what is your status?"

"I have landed on Corellia. My team is in place."

Servant Two moved into the transmission range. "The ledge is near," he said, in his uneven voice that quavered like a Miralukan throat singer practicing his scales.

He always reminded her of the “Haunted Chorus” holiday, an age-old tradition among her people on their Miralukan colony world of Covenant. Just before winter set in, people would gather in the local temple for a feast to celebrate and honor those who had died in the previous year.

Two or three of the best singers would stand behind the congregation and sing old chants not sung at any other time. Without exception, their chanting guaranteed the hairs on the back of everyone’s necks would stand and the tonal shifts produce a nagging feeling of dread.

This ritual was to ensure that the souls of the recently departed would once again walk among the spirits of the elders of Alpherides, even though it had been 10,000 years or more since their foremothers left the home world. A little deferential fear was all the departed elders asked, and Xhareen had thought more than once during her training that it prepared her well to be Sith.

Still, it was also her favorite holiday as a child, even though it scared her, too, as designed. It had been nearly 20 years since she celebrated the holiday on Covenant itself, but she could remember every note, every lyric from the chants by memory.

And that’s how she always thought of Servant Two, as something familiar and terrifying all at once.

Servant One always acted as though his partner wasn't there and got down to business. "Wrath, you are there to protect Darth Vowrawn from Baras’s threats. Our efforts to locate his secret headquarters are ongoing."

"Another digit of the hand will tap the Wrath," Servant Two chimed in. He was in fine, foreboding form today.

"Meanwhile we are tracking three assassins arriving on secret landing fields. It will be difficult to stop them all,” Servant One warned.

"I cannot let it stop me," Xhareen said. "The time for action is now."

Servant One picked up a datapad. "I am transmitting the coordinates for all three landing strips."

Vette looked up from her console and nodded. "Received, my lord."

Servant One continued: "These killers are but the first. There will be more. Vowrawn actively defies Baras. If he dies, Baras will be named the Voice of the Emperor. Protect Darth Vowrawn at all costs, and aid in his attempts to undermine our enemy. Goodbye."

Vector was the first to speak after the transmission ended. “That wasn’t ominous at all, was it?”

"I'm not sure whether getting calls from the Creep Squad is helpful, or it makes things worse," Vette replied.

"At least they sent coordinates," Jaesa said. "We have a place to start."

~~~~

Jaesa and Vector accompanied Xhareen. Vette stayed at the base to run comms and surveillance, with Broonmark to watch over her. He wasn't happy with being left behind, but Xhareen wanted to get a feel for the city area first before unleashing a seven-foot-tall Talz upon it. The team reached the first building and after chasing out the civilians, Vector stayed to guard the lobby while Xhareen and Jaesa went to the landing pad on the roof.

Defeating the first assassin turned out to be laughably easy. A droid – of a model that could have been stolen off of Lord Grathan’s estate on Dromund Kaas – emerged from a shuttle and was easily convinced that Xhareen had been sent by Baras to rescind his orders. The droid dutifully turned around and left on its shuttle.

Still, it was a spooky reminder of having been in Baras’s service: Had he appropriated one of the dead rogue Sith’s abominations to carry out this task? Yet another clue his offer of reconciliation was insincere.

She hailed Vette and told her to put a trace on the droid’s ship, and she and Jaesa gathered up Vector and headed immediately to the next landing zone.

=====

The next coordinates required a bit more stealth to reach without drawing any unwanted attention. The second assassin was debarking from his ship as the team arrived. Vector pointed to a row of crates behind where the shuttle would open and Xhareen nodded.

A middle-aged man emerged from the shuttle just as Vector got into place. “A welcoming committee?” he said as he hit solid ground. “Some days, you just can’t land secretly on a planet, even on a secret landing strip.”

Xhareen realized an organic wouldn’t be as easily confused as the droid had been. This particular organic looked like former SIS turned bounty hunter, and would not be easily duped. She lit her main hand saber and decided intimidation was the best bet. That, and a secret ally who could close the gap in one leap.

“If you know what’s good for you, you will get back on your ship and forget about your assignment.”

He laughed. “If you knew who sent me, you’d know that would not be good for my continued health or existence. I know who you are. You’re the apprentice Darth Baras thought he had killed.” He wrung his hands together as if he’d just accomplished something.

“Marvelous,” he continued. “I’ve studied you. Followed your exploits across the galaxy. You’re a personal hero of mine.”

“Sorry, pal, I don’t do autographs anymore, although it is nice to think I still have admirers.”

He pulled his weapon from its holster, but didn’t aim it. “Oh, you’re well known among my kind, but I’m somewhat obsessed, I admit. the way you handled Lord Grathan on Dromund Kaas was genius.”

He waited for that to sink in. “Oh yes, I know his son’s behind the mask now.”

That confirmed Xhareen’s suspicions about the droid.

“And I know who your companion is. You took out her master, Nomen Karr, and Admiral Monk and the War Trust and countless Jedi. Good, good stuff!”

“I’m giving you one last chance. Go back to Port Nowhere or wherever else fallen SIS agents go and live to see the rest of my exploits.”

“No can do, I’m afraid. You, I must kill, though it makes me quite sad. But your apprentice gets to live. There’s a bounty too big to resist out for her safe return to the Jedi geniuses on Coruscant. But given my knowledge, I have pretty good ideas on how to take you down and rescue your pretty apprentice.” He pulled his blaster up in firing position. “Here, let me show you.”

“If that’s the case, he’s all yours,” Xhareen said to Jaesa as she leapt forward and Jaesa fell back. The man was good: He dodged her blades for a full round of blows, but Xhareen took up all his attention and eventually he turned, allowing Jaesa to move in behind him. One swipe from Jaesa’s double-bladed saber and he was on the ground just as Vector landed next to them.

They were still catching their breath when Xhareen’s holo beeped.

It was another Sith in dark robes like the Servants wore. “Wrath,” she said, “I mark your position. Do not waste any effort getting to the third landing strip. Your final target arrived earlier than expected.

“To answer your question: I am Servant Eleven of the Hand. You were told to expect my call.”

Servant Eleven, as mysterious and unsettling as Servants One and Two were, informed them that Vowrawn’s headquarters had been located deep within Republic territory – inside a Republic-controlled tower in the heart of Incorporation Island in fact.

Xhareen was thinking that Vowrawn must be quite the daring man when Servant Eleven said, “Yes, he is quite daring, to orchestrate the war against the Republic from right under their very noses. But if I found him, Baras’s missing assassin could, too.”

Then she stopped, and put up her hand. “Hold … Yes, I will convey the message,” she informed some disembodied voice only she could hear. Xhareen couldn’t hear it, but she had the sudden sense of being grabbed on the shoulder and she turned quickly, only to see a quizzical look on Jaesa’s face.

“Servant Two has spoken to me. He says to be ready for suspicion.”

Xhareen tried to shake off the vibe. “Servant Two communicates with you telepathically then?”

“Yes,” Eleven said. “When Servant Two whispers, all agents of the hand hear him. My mission is complete. I am recalled. The Hand hopes you find Vowrawn before the assassin strikes.”

The holo shut down. “Good grief, how many hands does the Emperor have?” Jaesa asked.

“As many as he wants, I suppose,” Xhareen replied.

“As many as he needs,” Vector added.

She surveyed the coordinates. They were past the headquarters. “You should get back to the command center, Jaesa. This is still a Republic-aligned world and any number of Jedi and hunters could be looking to take you. Vector and I can handle this.”

Jaesa shook her head. “Let’s get this last assassin first, Master, and when you have located and secured Darth Vowrawn, I promise I’ll head back to HQ with Vette.”

 


	28. Blaster Fire, Treason and Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old ghosts never die.

Nerida Broysc checked the monitor. The girl had reported in as ordered from the Black Talon. Her plan was underway.

It would be gratifying to take down that smug officer who had caused her father the important Moff so many problems over the years, even better to take his Sith bitch out of the equation. Her dubious new partners might be skeptical, calling her too emotional, but she was also convinced that that Kaasian brat had murdered her father, too. All they cared about was the Sith, though. That officer was all hers to have and to destroy.

No one believed her. The evidence was clear and she had to admit, her father was always the one who insisted on dealing with the pirate scum personally and he took too many risks. Before his mind left him completely, he’d kept them all at bay. After, though … at least no one could keep him from continuing to play the role of military strongman. He resented this new Empire where the military was simply a tool of the Sith, puppets, birds in cages that had shrunk so much they could never stretch their wings. He resented all the young officers who had it so easy, the brats who earned their commissions because their fathers were bootlickers. No one respected a self-made man like Hamish Broysc.

When she was a little girl, Nerida fantasized about her father becoming Grand Moff, and she would be able to live like a princess in a palace on Dromund Kaas. Her father was a dashing young officer, promoted far beyond his humble birth, respected for his bravery and skill in battle. He respected the Sith then; he always told Nerida to respect her betters and the only Imperials better than hard working military people were the Sith themselves. But when liaison to the Sphere of Technology fell to that spoiled Rymar Quinn, who only got the job because his father had been a general and his brother was practically an admiral, her father lost all his respect for the Sith. They were no better than the rich snobs of Kaas City, the rich snobs who had taken over the military and all the other important sectors of Imperial society.

That was the day her father, Captain Hamish Broysc, decided to become rich, too.

It wasn’t difficult. Her mother, Parelta, came from a wealthy, if backwater, family. She had fallen for the trim and petite young man who courted her in the old-fashioned manner, much to the approval of her parents, wealthy landowners on the far side of the main continent. They were considered good enough for the goods they provided for the planet and the Empire, but had nothing to do with the aristocrats of Kaas City.

Though Parelta had given up working to be the good military wife and mother to three sons and a daughter, she wasn’t without significant experience running a business. She’d grown up to discussions of supply and demand, of Imperial markets, of investment strategies and how to raise working capital. She grabbed on to her husband’s suggestion and quickly earned her parents’ approval and a huge sum with which to start their glorious future.

She investigated industries and markets and black markets and made her case to get into the arms business. The Empire would always have a military and it would always need weapons. Establishing a presence was easy, and when the Perelta Arms Company made its first 10 million credits, she suggested they expand into armor production. Then it was research and development. Then it morphed into manufacturing parts for multiple kinds of manufacturing sectors, an endeavor that funded a quiet, new subsidiary: the Stealth and Surveillance Technology Branch. Everything Imperial Intelligence could ask for, and then some. Her mother laughed that many of their clients were paranoid Kaasian aristocrats – laughed, and then sent the bill.

By the time Nerida had graduated from school and was ready to take her place in the family business, it was her dream to have the company, now a major conglomerate that had expanded to Hutt Space and unaligned territories, get into the finance business. Let their money make money all on its own.

And so, she was given free rein to establish it … just not in Imperial space. The Empire and the Dark Council wanted to keep its grip on the expansion of capital within its borders, especially now that the Treaty of Coruscant had been signed and the wars technically over. A strong central economy was important and we will control it, they told her, but we won’t stop you from fleecing the rest of the galaxy.

 

She looked over the dossier her brother, Tolliver, had collated on the younger Quinn and his alien Sith wife. He’d been unable to dig up any connection to their father’s death other than the Sith, Xhareen, was friends with another alien Sith, Myroli, who was romantically involved with a former pirate and AWOL Republic pilot. What a trail of filth this Quinn left behind.

The Sith’s ship had been docked on Quesh for some time before her father’s death, although there were some indications records had been falsified to keep out of the sights of Darth Baras.

Ugh. Baras. There was a name she loathed to hear. He’d feigned support for her father for many years, trading secrets, introducing him to other Sith, helping him set up “arrangements” with pirates and black market operations to further the reach of his family business. It had been Baras who suggested her father take on the brilliant young Quinn “to keep an eye on him, maybe get one over on his old man.” She shuddered at the thought of how badly that had gone. She had, at the time, almost felt sorry for Quinn for taking the fall for her father’s mistake. She knew even then, her father’s mental facilities were failing, even though no one could figure out why.

Still, her pity didn’t go far enough to speak out, and when the younger Quinn got exiled to Balmorra and kept under Baras’s thumb, it felt like a small piece of justice.

But none of their contacts had put the disgraced apprentice and her crew anywhere near Nar Shaddaa, her father’s last known location, or Ziost, where his body had been dumped. The Red Scorpion pirates had taken immediate and public credit for his demise, and it was highly unlikely anyone in this Sith’s realm of influence would have enough pull to compel them to do so. Not even that pilot, Revel.

Still, Nerida couldn’t shake her suspicions. Her father’s final logs, painful to go through, said he’d been tracking “Admiral Malcontent” and was on the verge of apprehending him for unspecified crimes against the Empire. Of course, he also said he’d been tracking a deep-seated conspiracy involving 2,000-year-old beings.

Which at first made her nervous. She had kept secret her involvement with a group looking to make the Empire and the Sith stronger, an amorphous collective of officers and those aristocrats she had grown up despising. Later, they made it known there were sympathizers in the Republic as well.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. Yes, she was a malcontent, too. The Empire of her father’s day had lost its way. Cruelty and hedonism had turned the Dark Side into a farce no better than the Republic’s delusions of being fair and open. The Emperor was nowhere in sight. Balance had to be taught, with an iron hand if necessary.

She joined reluctantly, though. She wasn’t a joiner. There were aliens in the ranks and that didn’t feel right. She wanted to protect the Empire, and if members of the Republic wanted to help, she could justify it but it didn’t make things any easier if they weren’t human. To be honest, the Purebloods bothered her, too, but like many human Imperials, she never spoke that thought aloud.

Nerida would see these things through. She would see her father’s tormenter devastated, and his Sith wife disgraced. Or worse. Death was a small price for them to pay. She would see through her role in this hidden group of devotees to the essence of what the Force, the real power in the galaxy, could do.

She would set things right. And no one would be the wiser.


	29. Symbiosis

To call the complex where Vowrawn had dug himself into “vast” was to sorely understate its size. Even amid the massive manufacturing complexes on Incorporation Island, the Republic stronghold dwarfed its competition.

Xhareen, Vector and Jaesa borrowed an abandoned taxi and flew without notice to a landing port near the commercial district, where small shops and restaurants had once flourished. Now there was little left; even the normal detritus of an abandoned warzone had been cleared out, or picked clean. It was hard to say.

The group holed up in a small restaurant at the end of a block of similar eateries. A veneer of rancid cooking oil covered the walls and hung in the air, but the space provided the best vantage point from which they could survey the entrance to the complex. And the stench quelled any lingering appetite any of them might have had. Not that she was expecting a warm welcome from Vowrawn, but his reputation as a legendary party-giver put some hope in Xhareen that he might, after being won over, offer something tastier than a ration bar to his hungry saviors.

The biggest obstacle to a full belly now was how to get into the building. Xhareen counted no fewer than 40 Republic soldiers patrolling the front courtyard. She thought about a distraction: Maybe Vette could get Imperial HQ to send a bombing raid and take out the artillery guns in the front corners. Not subtle, but it would certainly get the Republic’s attention.

But she dismissed the idea without even mentioning it to Jaesa and Vector. They needed a way to quietly enter the building and keep the Republic in the dark. Too much attention would only jeopardize Vowrawn and Xhareen didn’t want to be the one to hand Baras an easy victory. She’d rather turn herself over to the Republic as a prisoner of war.

Which was precisely what she was now going to do.

It took about 45 minutes, but Xhareen finally found an abandoned security station that had what she needed. When she returned to the hideout, Vector had completed his ritual of unjoining and appeared human. He had rigged a way to carry one of Xhareen’s lightsabers on his belt as though it was meant to be that way; he tucked the second one in a pocket in the short robe he wore as a tunic.

They emerged from the hideout with Xhareen in cortosis cuffs with a dark hood covering her head, posing as two Jedi enforcers with a Sith captive. A building this large had to have some portion used for detention. Jaesa would do all the talking, with her Alderaanian accent. The cover story was that Xhareen was being sought by the Jedi Council directly for unspecified war crimes and that Jaesa and Vector had been sent to capture her. They needed a secure holding cell while they waited for a Council ship, already en route, to pick them up and return to Coruscant for a tribunal.

It worked perfectly to get them past the soldiers in the courtyard and the first checkpoint inside the grand doorway. Most soldiers were, at best, creeped out by Jedi business and certainly by the presence of a Sith. Xhareen had removed her visor in case one of them got brave enough to pull off her hood – in hopes that her blank upper face would further enhance her menace.

The coordinates pointed to a place deep inside the complex in the northwest corner. They encountered no resistance until they passed through to the back area.

A dark-haired male captain stood at the receiving desk. Jaesa once again explained why they were there and said they’d been told to bring their Imperial VIP prisoner to this location.

“Sith, you’re a long way from Imperial headquarters,” he said, coming around to where she stood. As if on cue, he removed the hood and gasped slightly at the eyeless face in front of him.

“Well it shouldn’t take much to figure out your identity,” he said after recovering his poise.

“Listen, Captain,” Jaesa said. “We know who this Sith is and we know who you are. You have nothing to hide. You should take us to your true leader immediately.”

And with that, Jaesa released Xhareen’s cuffs. None of them made any other moves, hoping to keep the captain at ease.

“Whoa, Sith, there are cameras all over this building if you get my meaning. We’re being watched.”

Xhareen reached into her pocket and pulled out her visor, replacing it on her face, then crossing her hands in as non-threatening a pose as she could manage. “Your leader is in grave danger,” she said softly. The captain had mentioned only being watched, not being listened to, but she didn’t want to take any further chances. “We have been sent from the Emperor himself to protect him. You must let us pass.”

“How do I know you’re not the danger?” he asked, suddenly dropping his Republic accent and clearly identifying himself as a Ziost native.

By this time, two enlisted soldiers rounded a nearby corner and pulled out their weapons. The captain waved at them to stand down.

“I am the Emperor’s Wrath. I seek only to prevent Darth Baras from becoming the Voice of the Emperor. Darth Vowrawn is the only member of the Council brave enough to challenge him, so Baras sent an assassin who is very likely in this building as we speak.”

The Captain conferred with the two soldiers for a minute then returned. “OK, here’s what’s going to happen. The probe droids are elsewhere in the quadrant and not expected back for about five minutes. So we’re being watched but no one is listening. I can’t make this decision. You’ll have to go see Lord Haresh. He’s chief of security. He can better judge you and your intentions. We stay out of Sith business.”

The captain gave them directions – three simple turns and they’d find Haresh at a guarded entrance to the safe zone. Xhareen had expected the two grunts to follow them, but they stayed back at the desk.

When they rounded the last corner, they saw a large, red forcefield and a Dathomiran Zabrak held up his hand to stop them.

“What? The alarms didn’t sound! How did you get in?” he asked in a soft, breathy voice.

“Relax,” Xhareen said. “I’m not the enemy.”

He drew his lightsaber, but kept it unlit. “We know who, and what, you are,” he spat out. “So Baras’s most deadly assassin has finally found us. My master has been on to you from the beginning.”

Jaesa drew her saber out, and Xhareen used the Force to draw her mainhand saber from Vector’s belt. He then reached into his pocket and handed her the other one.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone. I am no longer Baras’s apprentice.”

Haresh shook his head. “We’ve all heard about Baras betraying you. No one’s buying it. Vowrawn can smell Baras’s ploys a thousand light years away. He knows the rift between you and your master is a ruse, orchestrated to get you close enough to strike. So drop the act.”

“Darth Vowrawn and I share the same goal. My sole purpose is to destroy Darth Baras.”

“So stubborn,” Haresh replied. “We’ll see your tune change when you’re dead. Die, assassin!”

And with that, he struck, but not before Xhareen ignited her sabers and met his incoming blows. Vector and Jaesa flanked him so he had to face Xhareen without being able to get back to the control panel. He was good, but not on Xhareen’s level and she ran him through after a few more exchanges.

“Dammit,” she said as his body crumpled to the floor.

Jaesa had already figured how to disable the forcefield and they walked through to Vowrawn’s lair.

At the end of a long corridor, they were met in a well-fortified lobby by a Sith who looked to be the product of the same mold as Baras’s latest plaything, Lord Draahg. It could only be Vowrawn’s equivalent, Lord Qet.

“Where’s Darth Vowrawn?” Xhareen demanded.

“You’ll never find out, scum. You may have defeated Lord Haresh, but you can’t overcome an equal number of superior fighters.”

Xhareen didn’t get a chance to meet his taunt, because Vowrawn himself came around the corner. “Stop, Lord Qet. Stand down, all of you.”

“My Lord, retreat into the shadows. We will stop this assassin,” Qet pleaded.

“There could be ten of you, and you would all fail. Now leave us.”

As they walked out, Xhareen said “I haven’t come to kill you, my lord.”

Vowrawn laughed at her. “Please, don’t insult my intelligence. I applaud you! Convey my congratulations to your master for his superior game play.”

He bowed and then rose again. “The kill is yours. I ask only that I not suffer the indignity of decapitation.”

Xhareen was ready to scream in frustration. She only had one last round of explanations in her before she lost her composure. “The last thing I want is your death. Baras is not my master. My mission is to bring him down.”

Vowrawn went to speak again, but stopped as a soft “thump” was heard in the corridor that led behind the lobby to what must invariably be a warren of more offices. Vowrawn turned toward the hallway but backed up several meters. He might pose as a harmless busybody and hedonist, but clearly, Vowrawn had earned his long tenure on the Dark Council, because he could still move like a field operative.

“Ah … if this is true, the game is renewed!” Vowrawn said.

Xhareen had sensed it, too, and moved in front of Vowrawn. A grenade rolled into the room, and Xhareen pushed Vowrawn down and covered him. Both of them instinctively threw up a Force barrier, as Jaesa also did to defend herself and Vector.

Lord Qet deflected the grenade with a flick of his wrist to a far corner of the room, where it exploded and rained down parts of the ceiling on the lobby.

The bounty hunter, a suitably large Weequay, strode in with a blaster rifle aimed at Vowrawn. “Darth Vowrawn, Baras says you gotta die,” he said.

But as he finished speaking, Xhareen was on him in one move, striking him through his significant chest with one fatal blow.

Vowrawn stood up, brushed off his fancy robes, and came toward her. “That assassin had me dead to rights. You did not hesitate to defend me.”

He reached out his hand to her. “My friend, I am convinced. What’s more, I believe with my help, you can defeat Darth Baras.”

Xhareen took his hand. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

~~~~~

Vowrawn took Xhareen alone to a small but luxuriously appointed office. Jaesa and Vector stayed to help Vowrawn’s people clear up the lobby. Qet called for a squad of troopers to remove the assassin’s body. The incident would be recorded as a failed attempt to rescue the Sith prisoner, who died trying to escape.

Vowrawn offered Xhareen a cup of caff, which she eagerly accepted. They exchanged pleasantries, but after a few minutes, Xhareen reminded Vowrawn of her mission.

“I have a little confession to make, my dear Wrath. It is true that I am here to lead an important war effort, but there are other reasons I chose Corellia. Significant pillars of Baras’s power base are here. Only together can we tear them down.”

Xhareen finished her caff in less time than was circumspect and had already surveyed the room in hopes there was also a meal tray. There wasn’t. “Clearly, you are smart and powerful, Darth Vowrawn. The Emperor needs you alive. It won’t take Baras long to dispatch more assassins. I would bet anything his newest apprentice is on his way now. He’s not as good as I am, but he is wily and formidable. I can get you to a ship where you’ll be safer than here on the planet.”

Vowrawn touched a button on the desk in the back of the room, and within seconds, a tray of food appeared.

“Am I that obvious?” Xhareen asked as she descended on the platter.

“I could hear your stomach growling even as the grenade exploded. Far be it from me to be a poor host, letting his deliverer starve to death. And far be it from me to turn down your gracious offer. My protection here has taken a recent hit, but before I go, there are things about Baras you need to know.

“Most of the Dark Council knows Baras is not the True Voice, but he employs two agents from here to keep them in line. One agent collects and safeguards secrets Baras uses as leverage. The other is a Sith, undercover with the local Jedi group who call themselves ‘Green Jedi,’ who work in the shadows against Sith who defy him. They pay only lip service to the Jedi Council, and since it’s thought they only operate on Corellia, the council ignores them. Or at least it did until we brought the war here.

“But if these two agents were to disappear …”

“Baras would be left high and dry,” Xhareen replied.

“Exactly. I can point you to the first agent, posing as a Colonel Senks of the Republic army. My assistants are still trying to locate the errant Jedi but I will provide you with that information the moment I have it.”

Xhareen put down the meat pie she was getting ready to bite into. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” She paused as a wave of nausea hit her that she didn’t think came from the life growing inside her. “A darkness lives here, and I doubt it’s merely the essence of corporate malfeasance.”

It had been nagging her since she landed, but she’d been unable to put the thought into words until now. Vowrawn’s presence seemed to draw it out of her. It was unsettling, but it steeled her resolve.

Vowrawn raised the spikes above his eyes. “You’re perceptive as well as strong, aren’t you? Yes, Baras has something here, dark and ancient, that I have not yet uncovered. I will, but our first task – your first task – must be silencing Senks. However you choose. Kill him or recruit him, whichever you think will hurt Baras more.”

She stood up and wiped her hands. She was still ravenous, but there was a more immediate want to satisfy. “I will leave as soon as my companions have had a chance to sample this wonderful food, Darth Vowrawn.” She bowed her head slightly.

He reared back in a loud laugh and took her hand in his. “They already have, my dear. I would never force anyone to save the Empire on an empty stomach!”

 

~~~~~~

On the far side of Coronet City, in another Republic stronghold not harboring a secret Sith presence, a shuttle direct from Coruscant was cleared to land. Its occupants were an odd trio: a female Twi’lek Jedi, a human female and an enormous Sith Pureblood, all draped in drab Jedi robes. All of them bore the unmistakable and almost unthinkable: the mark of the Sith Emperor.

“Smells of death here. How appropriate,” the Sith said.

“It does, Lord Scourge,” the Twi’lek replied. “I’m sure the Emperor is enjoying it.”

The human female pulled her hood down. “Not for long. Not if I can help it.”

The Twi’lek put her hand on the human’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Kira. He’s not taking this planet. And we will get Master Braga back.”

 


	30. Her True Nature, Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days later, on Corellia

Killing Draahg was easy. But better than that? It was fun.

Xhareen had never reveled in killing. It was always a necessity, or a job. Sometimes, it pained her, as it did when she was first thrown in the Hutt slave pits and she had to kill to eat or claim water. She learned to tolerate it, to accept it as her responsibility as a Sith.

She couldn’t lie: She enjoyed the feeling of the Force coursing through her body, of sailing through the air to land on a target, the sheer, orgasmic rush of letting out a scream that physically paralyzed her enemies. She lived for the fight.

But never before had bringing about death been so much fun.

Not even Vengean’s death had felt so good. Killing him had been good for Baras, but it did nothing to bring back her long-dead master, long dead at Vengean’s anti-alienist hands. Draagh, however, was an abomination. More machine than human. Hardly still Sith. A tool, no more.

Though on that count, Xhareen could identify. That’s all she’d been to Baras after all.

As soon as she was certain Vowrawn had recovered from the death field Draahg had used on him, and as soon as they both were sure the Dark Entity Baras had enslaved was gone, they began to make plans for getting to Korriban.

“You have been a revelation, my dear,” Vowrawn said. “It is time for you to confront Darth Baras.”

“I must consult with the Hand first.”

“Of course, but surely they will want to unleash the Emperor’s Wrath. Even though Baras is still near-indestructible, I know of no other ways to weaken him. But with all you have accomplished, you are ready.”

No, Vowrawn, she thought. I am ready because killing Baras is going to be even more enjoyable now.

~~~~~

The Entity had told them the truth: Baras was livid over losing his connection to her.

They learned this from Senks, who had turned out to be smarter and more useful than Xhareen had initially thought. Vowrawn was downright impressed that she had convinced him to change sides.

It hadn’t been difficult: Senks crumbled like a stale biscuit on Tatooine. He confirmed what Xhareen had been hearing for months, that Baras was losing control despite all his advantages. Maybe Vowrawn’s concerns over having no other ways to undermine him were unfounded. Seems like Baras was working hard to undermine himself.

The team spent a few more days holed up in the safehouse. Then one morning, Vowrawn declared he and Lord Qet had to get to Korriban, and do what he must to convene the Dark Council. Xhareen was to wait a day, and then follow with the rest of their respective crews.

She wanted to go with him, but Vowrawn demanded she follow his plan. There was no fighting it. So arrangements had to be made.

Jaesa would travel with her and remain in orbit above Korriban with Vowrawn’s entourage. She sent Vette, Broonmark and Vector back to the safety of Zavaa’s ship, with a long set of instructions on what to do if Xhareen did not survive.

Vette fought back tears, and Broonmark might have actually been crying, too, she couldn’t tell. But Xhareen assured them this was only contingency planning and she had every intention of prevailing. Vector promised to take good care of them, “but only for a short time. We anticipate a joyous reunion,” he said.

She got only a few hours of sleep that night. One disturbing thought took the opportunity to gnaw at her as she tossed on the strange bed:  When she and Jaesa were cornered by the Green Jedi in their enclave, trying to uncover Baras’s spy, Jaesa was unable to determine who it was.

Xhareen hadn’t wanted to expose Jaesa to the danger of going so deep into Republic territory, given the bounty on her head. But Jaesa insisted that it was important, and they shared a strange moment of clarity and synchronicity in the Force, where they both realized it had to be.

But once they got among the gathered breakaway Jedi, Xhareen had no idea who the spy was, so she asked Jaesa to unmask the traitor. She attempted to use her power, but came up with nothing.

The moment of hesitation gave the plant, Master Injaye, time to step forward and confess to her shocked colleagues, before informing them that Jaesa was a wanted fugitive under orders to be returned to Tython.

Xhareen took out Injaye, but the rest of the assembled Jedi refused to let her go with Jaesa and they had to fight. Xhareen and Jaesa took them all out with ease, but it was a hollow victory. 

She hesitated to discuss it with Jaesa, since she had never intended to use her like some moral dowsing rod, as Nomen Karr had.

Xhareen was more than satisfied with Jaesa as comrade and fighter; she’d proven herself invaluable many times with her double-bladed saber. It was good to fight beside another Force user with an uncommon style.

It was Jaesa who finally brought up the subject as they waited for the shuttle to lift off and take them to Korriban.

“Xhareen, I know I disappointed you with the Green Jedi and I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You fought admirably and we left intact.”

“Yes, but, you counted on me to identify the spy and I couldn’t. We might have been able to negotiate a less deadly option.”

That was true, Xhareen had to admit, although the massacre did eliminate a serious threat to Imperial and Sith forces on the planet. Still, it felt wrong. But she had to make sure she and her friend – she had long since released Jaesa from any bonds of master-apprentice servitude – left the hidden compound alive.

“So, do you know why you couldn’t determine who the spy was?”

Jaesa bent her head down and bit her lip. “I think I understand the true nature of my ability now, finally. I couldn’t read the nature of the spy because you had no idea who it was.”

“I don’t get it. You were able to tell Nomen Karr about several Imperial spies.”

“No. He suspected they were spies because he knew the game so well. All I did was confirm his suspicions. My power, my gift, is to inspire confidence in someone I’m close with. To help them unmask their genuine feelings in tough situations. That’s generally the way to the truth, not some psychic ‘aha!’ moment.”

“I wish I’d asked you about Quinn then. Especially after things got so tense on Voss.”

“I’m not sure I would have had any revelations, honestly. I read Quinn several times, once right after I came on board, when you were there and you were both distracted. I sensed no guile in him, only unspoken feelings and anxiety. The second time was when Vette was in the lounge playing sabacc with Pierce while Quinn sat reading some report. I sensed his ever-present tension and anxiety, that were washed away when Vette won with a sense of pride and maybe even gloating.

“Each time, I was feeling what another person in the room was feeling. If he had been having doubts about his loyalty, I don’t think I would have seen it. At the time, you wanted nothing more than for him to say what he felt. Vette wanted nothing more than for Quinn to accept her as smart and valuable. As for Pierce? I’m not close to him but it doesn’t take Force powers to see how he views Quinn.”

They both laughed. “Jaesa, it doesn’t matter to me that you don’t have some ‘once in a millennium’ ability like Nomen Karr boasted. You’re my friend, and a valued crew member and an incomparable fighter and those are the things that are important to me.”

Then it struck her, that Jaesa must have read Xhareen’s agonizing about the situation and brought it up on her own. Truly, she was learning just how important her power really was.

While she was ruminating on that, Jaesa moved in and they hugged. “I want you there with me in the council chambers when I confront Baras,” Xhareen said. “It will be dangerous. If somehow, Baras takes me down, you will be called on to defend yourself and prove your worth as a Sith on your own merits. I know you can do it.”

“I will do it. I will end Baras and protect Vowrawn. Whatever it takes,” Jaesa said.

“Careful what you promise,” Xhareen warned. “A Sith is often called to make good on bold promises like that.”

~~~~~

At the base camp in Labor Valley, the Twi’lek Jedi and her team prepped for a long stay in the conflict zone. That she, Gislaran, had now been given command of all the Jedi on the planet was an exciting opportunity, one she hoped would help with the Republic’s victory along with the hunt for Master Braga.

She wanted to prove her worth to the Grandmaster, who openly doubted that Gislaran was free from the Sith Emperor’s influence after her long incarceration on his command station.

She pointed to Gislaran’s continued refusal to end her crusade against slaving operations tied to Republic concerns, despite the younger woman’s insistence that fighting for a greater good was the best way to atone for the wrongs she had committed under the Emperor’s control.

But she put her in charge nevertheless. Gislaran suspected the influence of other council members, as well as General Var Suthra and other supporters she had in the military, and she was not going to question her good fortune.

She was reviewing the latest intel on Sith activity in this sector, which was not insignificant, when Scourge suddenly jolted from his seat and ran toward the exit.

“Scourge, what is it?” He was not one to do anything rash or behave with anything other than cold calculation. And they'd all been on edge since first feeling, and then having confirmed, the unexplained deaths of the Green Jedi leadership council.

“Don’t worry, Jedi. I’m not going anywhere. I … I just sense a presence. Like a light revealed by the lifting of a black fog. Familiar, though it should not be.”

“Is it Sith?” Just their luck a new enemy was headed their way.

“Not like any Sith I am familiar with. I sense the Emperor’s presence and yet I do not.”

“Come on, Scourge. You’re not one to speak in riddles.” If he was truly sensing the Emperor, or some servant of his, it would be good to know. They might have to speed up their efforts at finding Master Braga, even if it meant ignoring the ongoing war effort or inviting more casualties.

“No, I do not enjoy riddles. But this is a mystery I must solve.”

~~~~~

On Dromund Kaas

Life in the Second Battalion wasn’t so bad after all. Sure, it was still just training on a civilized planet. But there was plenty of food, plenty of water – too much water, really, but she wasn’t going to complain because there was always a dry place to sleep.

Way better than any life she would have had among the Exchange. Way better than the dump where she grew up on Tatooine. She liked being Lt. Kirrika. Lt. Tamsyn Kirrika. Beat the hells out of being Naki Verda, guttersnipe, hacker and thief.

She remembered how puffy and water-stupid the man who recruited her was, like most non-natives who were just passing through. But he had a good pitch: a reasonable amount of credits for a long-term job tracking a mark and maybe fabricating a document or two. Any more and she might have been suspicious.

The people she dealt with after that, flunkies and functionaries, were so reasonable, up until the time when they said she needed plastic surgery. But then when they showed her what she’d look like, she thought it an upgrade. Might make it easier to go somewhere other than Sand Central and start a new life. Or at least, continue the old one. Stick with what she was good at.

And it was a bit of a surprise when they said the mark was Imperial military, and she’d be replacing someone else who lacked her particular skills. Replacement jobs were tricky, and she’d never done one before. Made up the credentials for others doing them, but to actually impersonate someone? That was a challenge. Maybe they were testing her, seeing if she’d demand more credits, then kill her for her temerity.

So she said nothing. Didn’t even flinch when they said she’d be an officer. Not bad for a girl whose only education had been on stolen Holonet bandwidth.

They instructed her in depth on the person she was impersonating. “Don’t worry, the other girl’s being well compensated to just go away,” they told her. It was wartime, so that made some sense.

They gave her all sorts of documentation on her mark: a pretty Kaasian man, rich family, Sith wife … whoa, there was a wrinkle. Naki-now-Tamsyn started to have her doubts. Still, she said nothing.

Then she met the big boss. Another Kaasian. Woman, corporate type. Turned out Mr. Puffyface was her brother. Why were they revealing themselves to her? Were these people toying with her, or did they really not know how the game was played? Or maybe they were just so rich and so protected they didn’t have to worry.

Yeah. She hoped it was that.

She was instructed to do whatever it took for the mark to trust her. Be sexy. Sleep with him if that’s what he wants, even if he has perverse desires. Especially if he has perverse desires. Look the other way if he has other lovers, but be sure to report that.  “Don’t worry, with any luck, you won’t have to deal with the wife,” the corporate lady told her. “And if it gets too disturbing, I’ll personally make sure you get a bonus.”

But he wanted nothing like that. All he demanded was that she and all his troops train hard, study hard and keep healthy. He respected her skills and encouraged her to devise her own solutions to training problems on the fly.

They were nearing the end of their training on Dromund Kaas and she was about to pass Communications Level 5 with highest honors. It had been easy. So easy.

But suddenly, she was having doubts about betraying Major Malavai Quinn. Nevertheless, she said nothing.

 


	31. Old Enemies, New Alliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months earlier, on Dromund Kaas

Vette didn’t think she could sigh any louder and she was about to start screaming when Quinn finally stopped pacing.

It had been 13 hours since they’d heard from Xhareen and Jaesa down on the planet. Xhareen had ordered them back on the ship, ready to leave orbit on a moment’s notice, with or without her. She used the Little Bird code and Vette had to practically pull Quinn by the collar to get to out of the cantina and to a more open place where Vette could explain.

“They’re caught up in some risky Sith business,” she’d told Quinn. “If it goes badly, she wants us to be far away. We’re supposed to go to the ship and get off planet ASAP.”

Quinn had tried to protest, but realized Vette wasn’t trying to prank him. “She doesn’t use that code for just any situation, Captain Skeptical. We need to get out of here.” He nodded and ran the credstik over the payportal.

Vette had to admit she felt bad for Quinn. No matter how much he protested about duty and propriety, he was unable to hide his feelings for Xhareen. And he also couldn’t hide the look of anguish and concern on his face as the implications of what she’d just told him set in.

“Let’s go then,” he said. He said nothing more the entire trip back to the ship.

He’d spent the last 13 hours coiled up like a snake. Vette’s instincts told her to stay out of his way, but she knew this was about protecting her friends on the planet and they needed her and Quinn both. And Quinn, though he really needed a tranq, needed Vette, too. So she stayed quiet, did everything he asked, did a few things before he even asked for them, and then they both waited.

The silence that fell once Quinn stopped worrying the deck of the bridge was quickly interrupted by a hail from the planet.

“Vette? Quinn? Come in,” Xhareen began, and before she could even say her name, Quinn dove for the nearest comm terminal.

“Yes, my lord, this is Captain Quinn.” Vette shook her head. As if there were any other Quinns around, Maker forbid.

“We’re done here, and Jaesa and I would really like to leave now.”

He let out a sigh of relief with such force, Vette figured the comm station wouldn’t need dusting for a week. Toovee would probably feel put out.

“Yes, Captain, we’re glad to be coming back in one piece, too. See you at the spaceport.”

Vette had already filed the request to re-enter planetary atmosphere and once cleared, she immediately made for Kaas City spaceport.

+++++

The business with Admiral Monk left Xhareen feeling as though she’d been hit by a speeder and dumped off a tall building. And maybe eaten by a rancor that wasn’t particularly hungry so he made a day of it. She’d taken Quinn with her, hoping his military bearing would help. Instead, after they’d been forced to kill or wound half his team, Quinn could barely look at her.  “I had no idea, Captain,” she pleaded for his understanding.

“Duty often means doing things we don’t like, my lord.” But his red-rimmed eyes belied his calm. He’d been shaken, too.

She was beginning to realize that serving Darth Baras meant doing a lot of things she didn’t like. Commander Rylon. His hapless son the ensign. Threatening Jaesa’s parents. Wresting the Dark Side out of Nomen Karr and delivering him to Baras like a cat dropping a dead bird at his feet.

Darth Baras’s Plan Zero was a success, though. And if Xhareen was right, her real objective was within reach. Baras would hand him right to her.

And so he did. She landed on Dromund Kaas and went straight to Baras’s office, Jaesa in tow to remind Baras of her own accomplishments.

It was time, he said. By playing Vengean for the fool that he was, he had weakened him considerably. By dangling the prospect of all-out war with the Republic to the hawks on the Dark Council, he made ending Vengean a foregone conclusion. All that was needed now was to do the actual deed.

Xhareen was shocked, however, when Baras informed her she wouldn’t be doing this alone. Vengean’s offices in the Citadel were more like a fortress and she’d need inside help to breach the barriers. Something about Baras’s enthusiasm for his “secret apprentice” who’d been posing as loyal to Vengean made Xhareen’s skin crawl. But to get at Vengean, she’d put up with this interloper.

A decision she regretted as soon as the oversized human opened his mouth. Lord Draahg, Baras had called him, and he was as dreary as his name. He feigned admiration for Xhareen’s accomplishments and skills, as unctuous as an out-of-favor Alderaanian noble.

“I wonder if an accidental saber throw might take care of the problem,” Jaesa whispered, even though Draahg was well out of hearing range.

“If only we could,” she whispered back. It wouldn’t be safe to incur Baras’s anger now. Once Vengean was done in, she’d still have to stay in Baras’s good graces. She would just wait and see about this third repulsor. Maybe the speeder would still fly him around.

Still, Jaesa’s ability to pick up on her unease made it clear this was nasty Sith business. If things went wrong, she didn’t want Quinn and Vette to be caught up in it. She’d left them in the Nexus Room cantina. Not the ideal place to discuss strategy, so she hoped Vette remembered the codes they’d taught each other in the months they spent here on the planet the first time.

She hailed Vette. “What’s up, boss?” Vette answered.

“Jaesa and I are busy with some business matters. I need you to take care of my Little Bird for me.”

Vette hesitated, but caught herself. “Sure, Quinn and I will go take care of him right now.”

The channel closed. It was time.

+++++

Baras had been right. Xhareen never would have broken through Vengean’s maze of traps and guards without Draahg’s help. She and Jaesa could have handled the guards in an open space, but Draahg knew their hiding spots and helped them avoid a half dozen possible ambushes. And the key he obtained – with great difficulty, he insisted – did get them into the Inner Sanctum.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Vengean had his back to the door when they entered. The space looked more like the bridge of a midsized frigate, not a holy space to commune with the Dark Side of the Force. She wondered how much of Baras’s and Draahg’s assessments were true.

But there he was, right in front of her, turning his ashen face -- stained and splotched with the history of his cruel misdeeds -- right toward her.

“I don’t know you, girl, but I feel like I should. And you, other girl. You smell like a Jedi and you befoul this place. But you, Draahg, I will enjoy bleeding you anew.”

He moved just a step in Draahg’s direction. Even without his Sithly armor, he was as tall as Draahg, though more evenly muscled throughout his frame. He didn’t need to give in to the stain of the Dark Side to be intimidating, but it certainly added to the effect.

He turned back to Xhareen. “You. Before you arrived, Baras was but a bit player. He would be nowhere without you.”

Xhareen stepped up, but did not go for her sabers yet. “True, but that assessment is where our common ground ends, Vengean.”

He laughed at her, but she could see a bead of sweat forming on his temple. “Your talents are wasted on that man, you foolish girl. Your master doesn’t deserve you. He’s a coward, pushing buttons from the darkness. You and I? We are people of action!”

“That’s where you are wrong, Vengean. Baras was quite useful. He got me to you. And he was not my true master. Darth Neveris was. It is in his name and that of Lord Gamheen that I am here to kill you.”

Xhareen could see Draahg shift his weight upon her revelation. She hadn’t wanted to ever reveal what she’d just revealed to Vengean to anyone; only Jaesa and Vette had some idea of her origins. If Baras knew, he never said anything and appeared to care little for anything but results. Xhareen had delivered enough of those to buy some forgiveness for having ulterior motives of her own.

Vengean interrupted her thoughts with a sickening laugh. “So, you really are a filthy alien. There are rumors circulating around the Citadel even now about Baras’s favorite new weapon.”

“I’m an alien who’s going to kill you, for my own reasons. If it benefits Darth Baras, all the better. He’s earned it.”

“Baras has earned nothing but to be forgotten, child. He’s losing control of all his little puppets. I will gladly hand him your head, and those of my faithless apprentice and your little Jedi, too, right before I run him through.”

“Hah!” Draahg called out, finally finding his voice. “How can anyone hope to beat Baras, especially someone so easily duped, so easily exposed as you?” He lit his saber and squared his enormous feet for an attack.

“Allow me to open your eyes to the obvious. All three of you die now,” Vengean said, and as he finished speaking, he jumped atop the computer bank behind him, raised his hands, and propelled a dozen crates at the three who opposed him.

Xhareen and Jaesa easily avoided them, but one hit Draahg square in the chest. He stepped back, but recovered quickly. He was either wearing state of the art armor, or he was even sturdier than he looked.

Vengean laughed at him, then brought out his light saber and pointed. In that moment of distraction, Xhareen managed to toss a crate back at him. He avoided it, but he moved enough that he lost his footing and landed back on the floor.

Xhareen moved anti-clockwise while Jaesa moved opposite, leaving Draahg in the middle. Now, Darth Vengean, Dark Council member, Head of the Sphere of Offense, was like a cornered nexu. Dangerous and unpredictable. He released a flurry of Force lightning in a wider arc than Xhareen had ever seen. Though the three of them countered it easily, it gave Vengean enough time to ready his saber.

Assuming Jaesa to be the weakest, he struck first at her. But she was more than capable, and her double-sided saber pole maneuvers caught him off guard, as they had done to many others in many a fight. Xhareen took advantage, leaping to his position, forcing him to back away from Jaesa to deal with two more weapons aimed at him.

Draahg stayed back, until Xhareen’s subtle moves forced Vengean to turn his back to his fake apprentice. Draahg tossed his single saber; Vengean jumped to avoid it, landing on the lower level of the room.

Xhareen and Jaesa were on him nearly instantly, with Draahg pulling up the rear. He had clearly had time to forge some kind of bond with Draahg, because he turned as the massive man approached him. His red eyes began to glow crimson and he struck Draahg with a weak blast of lightning, giving Xhareen enough time to push him into a corner near a row of storage lockers.

“Pull back, both of you,” she ordered. Jaesa and Draahg complied. “Vengean, stand up. Face me, and your death, like a true Sith.”

He immediately charged at her, but after trading only a few blows she easily met, she ran him through. As he stared at her before collapsing, a glowing hole through his chest, she said the words she had waited a dozen years to say: “Say hello to Darth Neveris for me.”

A quick _zffft_ of her mainhand saber as she shut it down, and he fell to the floor.

Draahg was the first to speak. “For years, I’ve dreamed of vanquishing Darth Vengean. Glad to have had a hand in it.”

Figuring alarms would be going off somewhere and soon, Xhareen began to walk out of the area, hoping she could find her own way to the entrance without resorting to asking Draahg for directions. Well, she could just follow the trail of bodies they’d left.

“I bet he used to be strong, but his time ended before we even walked into his domain,” she said.

“I have no delusions I would have survived this battle if it wasn’t for you,” he replied as they made their way to the first open area. “This is your victory.” He bowed, but still, Xhareen could see no sincerity in him. She nodded back. “We should get back to Darth Baras.”

“I have some things I must clean up here first. I will meet you back at his chambers.” He turned and went down into a side hallway they hadn’t been through.

Jaesa came up beside her. “I read him, Master. He’s not to be trusted.”

“Figures, doesn’t it? Let’s get out of here.”

+++++

They managed to escape the area before anyone else showed up and were back in Baras’s office rather quickly.

He was standing in front of his desk, waiting for them. Draahg must have informed him of the good news. “Look upon me, apprentice. You have never seen me so pleased.”

She got down on one knee and bowed her head. Jaesa followed.

“Rise up, apprentice. And look around these chambers one last time. The humble trappings of yesterday. Darth Vengean is no more, and now I assume his seat on the Dark Council.”

“Congratulations, my lord. I am proud to have served you,” Xhareen said, a sudden pit forming in her stomach. It truly felt like an ending to her story. Would he kill her, now that she had served her usefulness to him?

Before her worries worked themselves out much more, Baras continued laying on the praise.

“The seeds were sown long before your arrival, but you were essential to the endgame. We ascend together.” He raised his hands in the air, as if he were expecting the Force to bestow a crown upon his head.

“Ahh! I see the third side of this triumvirate arrives. Lord Draahg, welcome home.”

Xhareen stood up just as Draahg knelt down. “It’s been a long time, Master,” he said. “I’m ready to join the front line.”

Ugh, Xhareen thought. Jaesa was right. Draahg was a suck up and not to be taken for granted. “So now there is a war to win. What is your command, Master?” she asked.

“Now that I am on the Dark Council, we are perfectly positioned to bring the Republic to its knees, to shape the galaxy as we wish. Go and enjoy this victory, my apprentices. But be ready for my call. I will not sit idle long.”

Xhareen bowed, as did Jaesa, then turned to leave the room. Draahg was just getting up. “My lord, a word?” she heard him ask as they rounded the corridor.

+++++

As they exited the Sanctum, Jaesa took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that place, Xhareen.”

“Nor I. I have one last errand to run in the central city, and we probably ought to contact the ship, too. I’m sure Quinn’s about to have kittens, if he hasn’t already.”

They both laughed, and locked arms like sisters, and headed for the nearest taxi.

 

 

 


	32. Well, Actually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh for our least-favorite darth, and a homecoming at last

**On Korriban**

The young Pureblood acolyte delivered the message and then froze, expecting the worst.

“Another bloody council meeting? We need to be winning this war, not meeting about it!” Darth Baras bellowed. The acolyte bowed to the ground, more to escape the force of Baras’s voice than out of respect. Baras ignored him.

The Corellian campaign was going poorly. Baras had pushed for the invasion, convincing the war powers it would be in the Empire’s best interest to get its hands on all that tech for free, rather than being forced to pay three times the going rate to do deals under the table, away from the prying eyes of the Republic. Not that he regretted it, but he loathed having to explain his every action and every outcome to every fool who couldn’t see the larger picture.

He hadn’t intended the conflict to escalate as it had. He had been somewhat taken aback by how quickly the planet went up in flames, and by how long it kept burning, decimating troops and resources on either side. Especially the Empire's.

But perhaps he could turn this blasted meeting to his advantage. He was not about to let that peacock Vowrawn best him.

He paced around his chambers – fairly won, he reminded himself, from Darth Vengean. No matter that it was his wayward apprentice who had done Vengean in. Baras was the master who’d brought her along, used her for his purposes, although it was a constant annoyance that she refused to be disposed of no matter how hard he tried.

Now she was aligned with that cursed Vowrawn. She’d robbed him of his greatest assets. Ekkage was dead. Senks was missing. The Dark Entity just walked away, freed from the bonds Baras had spent a year forging. Draahg had not checked in and all Baras could assume was that he, too, had finally fallen to her rage.

But at least she had wounds of her own, especially the loss of that ingrate Quinn.

Baras smiled. He hadn’t expected her or Quinn to survive his little starship drama, but the fact that they did and now Quinn no longer served on her ship made him smile. _Since you survived, whelp, you will suffer_. It wouldn’t be long, he figured, before she or Vowrawn would trip up and he’d find a way to end them both for good.

He waved his hand to dismiss the acolyte, who disappeared, still breathing and quite grateful.

Corellia had gone badly for him, too. He’d lost his primary assets. If he waited much longer, his weakness would be exposed and he’d never be able to convince the holdouts on the council that he was the Emperor’s Voice.

So today would be the day he’d announce his vision, his calling from the Emperor. He picked up his secure datapad and added a request to address the council as soon as it convened. Then he gathered the props he’d need and his coterie of followers, headed out of his chambers and walked down the storied hallways of the Sith Academy to the chamber where his ascension would begin.

He rounded a corner and stopped so abruptly, one of his minions ran into him, then fell to the floor and began apologizing.

A dark-skinned human -- a face half forgotten, a Force presence not to be denied -- waited for him at the end of the hallway, just outside the council chamber doors. _It couldn’t be_ , he thought, just before kicking the whining toady into silence.

_Tremel_. So, she had been disobedient from the start. Presenting Tremel’s hand to him, stifling her grief, eating her guilt over murdering him, proclaiming her loyalty only to Baras. Everything about her had been a lie.

_That’s what you get for trusting an alien._ Yet he fought down the thought. It had taken him months before he learned she wasn’t human, after all. He still firmly held that aliens were just as useful as humans and far easier to control than Purebloods. But Vengean’s anti-alien bias worried the edges of Baras’s thoughts more often than he liked to admit.

“Tremel,” Baras spat out.

“Darth Baras. I’d bow, but you’d probably take my head as I did.”

Tremel knew as well as Baras that this entire floor was under constant surveillance. No acts of violence could take place anywhere near the council chambers without being seen, and the perpetrators instantly executed, no trial, no questions asked. It kept assassinations of sitting council members to a minimum, and made gathering a quorum much easier.

“You’re already dead, Tremel, at least as far as the records show.”

“Yes, Baras, thank you at least for not erasing my entire existence.”

“I was sorry to hear about your daughter, Tremel. Such a tragedy.”

Tremel wasn’t having it. “And I’m sorry you lost your apprentice. Or did you just misplace her?”

The man was up to something, Baras knew, and it wasn’t just his constant paranoia telling him that.

“You do realize there are others here who might find your presence … _inconvenient_ ,” Baras seethed.

“Well, actually, I’m fully aware of the ramifications of my presence, Baras. But I wouldn’t miss what’s about to come next for anything in the galaxy.”

_She wouldn’t dare_ , Baras convinced himself as he brushed past Tremel and headed into the chamber.

~~~~~

**On Dromund Kaas**

The final training exercises had gone well, and Major Malavai Quinn was pleased.

His unit had come in first place, handily, in all the competitive exercises held as a test of the three new battalions. Quinn was embarrassed that most of the credit had gone to him, and not to his troops, as though the presence of a handful of aliens was not to be heralded when they were the ones who did so  well. He promised he would find some way to make it up to them, maybe on the spaceflight back to Corellia.

For now, their reward was to enjoy two days’ R&R on the compound. Quinn wanted to enjoy this downtime with them, but a personal mission of his own was calling him.

He asked for, and quickly received, permission to fly to the main continent and to Kaas City. He stopped first at the family solicitor’s offices where he was happy to learn that his Uncle Drayden had arranged clearance codes for him to visit his family’s estate home while they were still in hiding from Baras.

He had hoped to be able to visit them in person, but perhaps Drayden would be able to arrange something. If not, then he was going to record a greeting and let his mother and sisters know that, as soon as possible, he wanted to meet with them and begin to repair their broken family. And to meet his new nephew in person.

The estate sat at one edge of the sprawling Kaas megalopolis, a testament to the Quinn family’s lineage as ancient and loyal. Quinn tried but was unable to hold back the tears when he saw it for the first time since his father’s funeral.

The taxi left him outside the last gateway, and Quinn punched in the series of codes, then walked the quarter kilometer to the grand front door. Another set of codes, and he was in.

Two military issue guard droids greeted him, scanned him and allowed him to enter. Drayden had said most of the house was in lockdown, but that Quinn could access the main areas on the first floor and the library and his old bedroom on the second. Because of course the two rooms were adjacent, his parents figuring out early on how much their only son loved their collection of well-preserved paper books and all the other media and resources housed in the spacious room. His older sister Kayda had always proclaimed the room “dry as Tatooine” and unfit for human habitation, while his younger sister, Rissa, had shown a preference for working with her hands over reading.

There was still a working terminal in the library where the family would gather to watch holodramas or, usually at young Malavai’s insistence, documentaries about military battles or Imperial history. He was still composing on his datapad what he wanted to record for them when the device buzzed to life and the most amazing call he could have hoped for came through.


	33. The Curtain Falls, The Curtain Rises

**On Korriban**

Djôrin, one of Vowrawn’s Pureblood apprentices, landed the shuttle and accompanied Xhareen and Jaesa from the private landing pad and into the Sith Academy. Jaesa bumped into Xhareen at least three times, paying more attention to the grand scenery than to where she was walking.

“Don’t worry, Jaesa, in a few hours, maybe we can take a quick tour before heading to Dromund Kaas.”

“You meeting Quinn there?”

Xhareen nodded. “Yes, I hope so. Vette said military records showed his battalion is still there in training. I have to see him before we get back to Corellia.”

“And give him the good news, right, Master?”

Xhareen stopped short and Jaesa bumped into her again. “You know?”

“I can sense the life in you. I wasn’t going to say anything. I know you don’t have any choice but to confront Baras. I just hope he doesn’t …”

“Don’t worry, Jaesa. Baras wouldn’t know life or joy if they smacked him in the face so hard his mask fell off.” They both laughed.

“I trust you know what you’re doing, Xha… I mean Master.” Xhareen had warned Jaesa it might be easier if she pretended to still be the dutiful apprentice while they were on the planet.

_I hope so, too_ , Xhareen thought, but she said only, “We’re here.”

The entrance set aside for Dark Council members and approved staff led them directly to the third floor where the council chambers were. Xhareen had never been this way, and had only ever been to the foyer – even that had been extraordinary for an acolyte, but she had come to deliver sad news to one of the dark Honor Guard about his fallen son.

As she was struggling to remember the man’s name, she saw Vowrawn, who waved her to where he was standing. As she got closer, she saw he had brought some surprising guests.

First she saw Lord Rathari – his large size was hard to miss. In the months since she’d bested him on Nar Shaddaa, he clearly had re-focused himself, because he bore only a few dark side marks on his pale skin, which had warmed up to a more life-like shade. His hair had started to regrow. As soon as he saw her, he knelt.

Then she saw the other man, and only her need to show respect and decorum for the setting kept her from running into his arms. Though as she got up to him, he bowed first and said, “It is an honor to be here to support you, Lord Wrath. Vowrawn pulled me out of hiding to see this day.”

“Overseer, I am overwhelmed that you are safe.” He held out his offhand to shake hers, and she laughed and took it into both of her own.

“Yes, my dear, there are places in the galaxy that provide wonderful prosthetics.”

“Overseer, I am sorry about Eskella. I had no …”

He pulled his hand back and waved it. “It is no matter, my lord. By her actions she was truly Sith and for that, I am content.”

Xhareen nodded, then moved to Rathari. “Lord Rathari, please, rise,” she said.

He stood up to his full and quite impressive height. “How have you been all these months?” she asked.

“I have been well, my lord, thank you for asking. As promised, I am here to watch you end Baras. I cannot wait to hear him scream.”

 “Today is your lucky day then. Thank you for your confidence, Rathari.”

“Lord Rathari’s presence will send a signal that many Sith support you, Wrath,” Vowrawn said.

Rathari bowed his head again. “I am certain you will prevail,” he said.

“As am I,” Tremel added.

“I hate to interrupt this happy reunion, but I’ve kept the council waiting long enough,” Vowrawn said. “Baras has decided to turn this meeting into his official proclamation as the Emperor’s Voice. They always expect me to be fashionably late, but I think even the rest of my fellow councilors are anxious to get this over with.”

They walked down the last few meters of hallway when Xhareen noticed that the guard she’d spoken to so long ago was on duty today. He bowed his head and she said, “Naman Fal,” and nodded back.

“Well,” Vowrawn whispered to her. “If you survive, he’ll be the talk of the non-Sith on Korriban for weeks. If not, he’ll quite likely be guarding the tombs within the hour.”

Xhareen vowed to speak to him on her way out.

~~~~~

The enormous doors opened to a cavernous room, with twelve throne-like seats ringing an open area as large as any fighting arena Xhareen had ever seen.

Baras – that could only be his form – had his back to the door, addressing the Sith Xhareen recognized as Darth Marr in the seat at the far end. Several of the seats were occupied by holoprojections, including Darth Decimus’s.

“That had better be Darth Vowrawn,” Baras growled.

“The time has come, Baras. But don’t act like you were expecting me,” Xhareen said.

Darth Marr ignored him, but as Xhareen walked into the glow of the red lighting beaming down from the ceiling, he said, “Interesting.”

Another member, a human with cybernetics and tattoos decorating his rather plain face, barked, “This had better not be another one of your games, Vowrawn.” That had to be Ravage. Vowrawn warned her he was spineless, but could be a dangerous, back-stabbing adversary when he wanted to be.

Xhareen answered him. “I’m here to silence the false Voice of the Emperor. I address this esteemed body as a representative of the Hand of the Emperor. I am Xhareen Nah-garesh, though you should know me as the Emperor’s Wrath.”

Baras approached Marr’s seat. “My fellows, this is my former apprentice. No doubt, you are aware of her defiance. She was unworthy, so I cut her loose. The Emperor will guide me on what to do about Vowrawn, but for now, assist me in destroying this abomination.”

This was not a time to be timid, Xhareen reminded herself. “Don’t hide behind the council, coward.”

Ravage spoke again. She only had to view a part of the file Senks had compiled to know Baras held considerable leverage over him and his depraved desires. She determined to avoid addressing him unless absolutely necessary.

“Fine,” he said. “Let us swat this gnat and move on.”

Marr stood up before he had even finished.

“No,” he declared in his booming voice. “Baras claims to be the Voice. This lord claims to be his Wrath. I will not provoke the Emperor. They will fight. The one who lives, speaks truth.”

Baras walked back to the center of the floor across from Xhareen. “Fine, the master will grant the slave her last wish.”

Xhareen had had enough. She pulled her sabers from their holster and lit them. “I am not, nor have I ever been, your slave, Baras. All your lies and all your backstabbing and all your blackmailing ends today.”

Xhareen jumped to close the distance, but was met by Baras’s saber and a Force-aided push. She was able to meet both. But he, too, met her blades with ease. He had bragged when she was still his loyal apprentice that he had been a top-notch fighter in his youth.

But he wasn’t young anymore. She predicted his stamina would fail him, especially now that he could not draw on the enslaved dark spirit for strength.

Xhareen wondered if the Entity was watching them from wherever she was.

The fight lasted longer than Xhareen expected, though Baras quickly dropped his saber and began hurling lightning at her. It was harder to fend off, but she still found the strength to do so.

He also cannily managed to slow her furious pace, stopping to first dramatically drop his mask and show his ghostly, pale face, very likely the first time in years he had done so in public.

“Have you had enough, child?” he bellowed. “Can you feel the life draining from you? Why persist in this futile gesture of vengeance?”

Xhareen had broken a sweat underneath her armor, she’d admit that, but this was nothing on the order of taking out the entire Green Jedi council. She laughed. “Forget the bravado, Baras. No one’s buying it.”

She didn’t have time to read the room, but she felt a sudden wave of confidence flowing from Jaesa. She was certainly the better fighter, but she also had something Baras did not: true friends.

“Your champion is failing, Vowrawn,” Baras said. But he had probably overstepped with that remark. He clearly was gasping for breath now.

“Is that you speaking, Baras, or the Emperor? I can scarce tell the difference,” Vowrawn said. If this weren’t a life or death battle, Xhareen would stop and give him a round of applause. It had the effect Vowrawn certainly had intended.

A hint of color almost returned to Baras’s face as he turned toward his nemesis. “Don’t mock me, fop!” he shouted.

Xhareen knew she could have taken advantage of Baras’s distraction, tossed her mainhand and caught it again before Baras even hit the ground. But she wanted something more for his well-deserved end.

She wanted to look him in the face and hold him accountable for every life she had taken unnecessarily in his name, particularly the Imperial soldiers who’d been foolishly sacrificed at a time when the Empire was bleeding soldiers’ lives.

She wanted to hold him accountable for the damage on Quesh. For his repeated attempts to kill Quinn.

She wanted to hold him accountable for the danger he posed to their Emperor, the one to whom they swore their allegiance. His actions on Voss had been unforgivable. And for what he had done to the Entity. That was as selfish as it was cruel.

They traded a few more rounds where Baras threw strong, concentrated lightning bolts, but Xhareen fended them off, each one getting easier to block.

Now was her time to strike. Now was her time to end this game.

“You are depleted, Baras. You hover a breath away from destruction.”

He tried to cast another bolt, but the air around his hands crackled with a few seconds of purple static that quickly died out.

He turned his back toward her to face Darth Marr. When she did not strike, several council members gasped openly. Darth Decimus put his hand under his chin and smiled.

“I call upon the Dark Council to kill this fool, now!” he screamed. “The Emperor commands it! Darth Marr, strike on the Emperor’s behalf or suffer his disfavor!”

Marr, who had been sitting at the edge of his seat, leaned back. Xhareen wondered if he were smirking under his mask.

“I believe I’ll take my chances,” he said, dismissively.

Baras turned to his one last hope. “Ravage, defend me!”

But Ravage waved him off. “I will not stand in the path of the Emperor’s Wrath.”

Baras then turned toward Xhareen. “Deliver the death blow, then. From beyond darkness, I will strike back at you. I cannot die!”

She silenced and holstered her light sabers, then laid a Force choke on him until he fell to his knees. Then before anyone could take another breath, she leapt to Baras and pulled him up with one hand. She thrust her mainhand saber into Baras’s chest and said aloud, “Consider this, Baras: Killing you was easy.” Then she drew close and whispered in his ear, “Say hello to Vengean for me when you enter the Void.” And then she ignited her weapon through his girth, and held him up until she felt the life drain out of him.

When he was dead, she cast his body onto the floor and re-holstered her saber.

Vowrawn began to clap. “At last! The end of Baras. The air clears and my lungs breathe deeply again.”

Xhareen might have laughed, but a strange sensation came over her. It felt like an army of nanobots was crawling into her through her skin. She looked over at Jaesa, and from her worried expression, knew she was feeling it, too.

She almost didn’t realize Vowrawn had just addressed her. “You have proven that you are truly touched by the Emperor. Let the enemies of the Empire tremble. The Emperor’s Wrath shall consume them all!”

Mechanically, she turned toward Darth Marr and inclined her head. It seemed pointless to bow anymore.

“You are acknowledged, Wrath,” he said, his deep, musical voice filling the chamber. “Your actions will not be challenged as long as they do not contradict our own.”

“I am sure, councilors, that as long as your actions do not contradict the Emperor’s will, there will be no problem.” The words came out of her mouth as though she hadn’t spoken them. But she had. And now she’d have to live up to a lot more than simply being Baras’s apprentice.

But for now, she would accept their accolades. She turned first to one row of councilors, and they bowed to her – even Ravage. Then she turned to the other side for the same.

As she made her way toward the grand doors, she felt like her life had suddenly become a grand Sith opera, and she briefly wondered where the swelling orchestral music and booming drums were.


	34. Passion Leaves a Trace

Outside the chamber, Xhareen nearly fell to her knees, but caught herself and simply bent over and took the deepest breath she could. Jaesa, Tremel and Rathari had followed her out, and immediately circled her.

She waved them off and stood up on her own. She hugged Jaesa, Tremel and Rathari in turn. Rathari held on an almost uncomfortable length of time.

She was going to suggest they reconvene in the cantina on the ground level when an acolyte approached her.

“My lord,” the girl bowed. “Darth Marr would speak to you in his chambers.”

“I will be there,” she said, and the girl disappeared down a side hallway.

“Marr’s offices are at the very end of the hallway that girl went down,” Tremel said. “And the rest of us will be awaiting you in the cantina.”

When she was alone, she heard someone in the corner by the door clearing their throat. She turned to see Naman Fal, the pride of the Dark Honor Guard, father to a boy who’d failed his trials for the sake of love.

“My lord,” he said, falling to one knee. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

“Rise, guardsman. Speak as you will,” she said.

“I knew that day so many months ago that I was in the presence of greatness. I know you might have embellished my son’s final accomplishments to spare my feelings. Regardless, I owe you my endless thanks and devotion.” He put his hand over his heart and bowed his head.

Xhareen wondered what trials and battles he had survived, his face covered in cybernetics, his right eye completely replaced. She hadn’t known as a mere acolyte how else to handle giving him the sad news. But today, he had earned the truth.

“Naman, your son failed in his trials not because he was weak but because he was in love with an Imperial soldier he met.”

“Forgive me, my lord, but I do not see the difference.”

“Love is the highest expression of passion, and the most difficult to achieve. Do not fault your boy for reaching for the stars. He was truly Sith, no matter where his body fell.”

The man bowed his head. He nodded, his lip trembling ever so slightly.

“Be well, Naman Fal.  You are a credit to the guard.”

“Good hunting, my lord.”

The man disappeared back into the shadows. Xhareen turned her attention to the hallway before her and whatever Darth Marr wanted of her.

~~~~~

Marr was already there when she was escorted by the same acolyte into a spacious but warmly decorated office. Marr was standing in front of his desk, his right arm extended in greeting. She shook his hand, and he covered hers with his other, formidably large hand.

“Though I am certain machinations were involved, since my colleague Vowrawn doesn’t do anything without conceiving grand schemes, I am nevertheless overjoyed at today’s outcome,” he said.

“Baras was a menace to the Empire. It was my duty, my lord.”

“You are formidable, Wrath, of that all of us are in agreement. Your path ahead will not be easy, as I am sure you have figured out. But let us put the ominous predictions aside for a moment. Step over here, please,” he said, pointing to a small lounge area.

They sat in luxuriously appointed chairs across from one another. A table of ancient wood held a crystalline bottle with a blood red liquid. Marr poured a glass for her, but not for himself. Clearly, he was not going to unmask himself, even to the Emperor’s Wrath.

“Our Sith ancestors used to drink the blood of their kills,” he said as she took a sip. The drink had a sweet, fruity taste with just the slightest metallic hint to it.

“I, for one, much prefer vital tonic,” he said. “This is among the best distillations available. It is produced by one of own family’s plants, the fruits grown on estates we have held for centuries.”

Just the one sip calmed the crawling sensation on her skin, but she wasn’t sure if it was safe for her to continue drinking. “It is exquisite. But I’m certain you brought me here for more than just a wine tasting party.”

Marr cocked his head at her brashness.

“You are bold, too, aren’t you? That’s good, Wrath. Your adjustment time to your new role is going to be painfully short. My fellow councilors will not soon forget that, in short order, you have taken out three of our ranks and that leaves the weaker ones quite afraid. Even cowards like Ravage are dangerous when cornered, especially so.”

He sounded more concerned than combative, which Xhareen appreciated. “I am aware of my precarious position, Darth Marr. My intention is to keep my promise to Darth Decimus and assist in the Corellian campaign. Baras started that cock up; it’s only right that I help end it to the Empire’s advantage.”

“Smart move, but then I expect nothing less from the only person who could have gotten Baras out of the way. And on that note, I am happy to be the bearer of good news: All that Baras commanded, including all Vengean’s holdings, are now yours.”

Vowrawn had mentioned as much. Xhareen had deferred her due from Vengean’s estate because at the time, she hadn’t wanted to anger or second-guess Baras. And she needed nothing except her ship and her crew, safe. Any question of reparations soon became moot once Baras had put them all on the run.

Marr grabbed a large datapad from a side table and pressed a few buttons before handing it to Xhareen. “Look it over carefully. I need to attend to other matters and will return in a few moments. You should also begin to consider what title you will take as the realm’s newest Darth.”

Xhareen hadn’t thought about that at all. She thought she would simply be “Lord Wrath.” Although it did seem proper now that she ranked as high as any Dark Councilor that she be granted Darth status.

He left the office and Xhareen poured over the data. It didn’t take her long to decide what to do. Or on a title, either.

When he returned, she laid out what she wanted: “I will take Darth Ekkage’s estate and its holdings on Dromund Kaas. I want the farming operation and the related groves. And I want this plot in the far jungle as my ultimate right.

“I want nothing to do with any of Baras’s spy operations, spice rings or slaving. The council can keep those, although I won’t make any apologies for noting that slavery is an abomination that is draining the Empire of its lifeblood and keeping us from our rightful place in the galaxy. We should be welcoming aliens and paying workers, all workers, a living wage. We would spend less buying affection than we do quelling rebellion. We’d have plenty of new recruits and not have to resort to conscripting children.

“I won’t bother you with any more of my speeches, Darth Marr. You have been most kind. One last request: There are some legitimate business operations here. I call rights to 40% of their profits to be split by my crew and my husband, for whom I will set up accounts forthwith.”

Marr took the pad back from her. “Impressive, Lord Wrath. You are principled as well, I see.”

“I see no problem between that and being Sith.”

Marr laughed. “Then I hope for your sake that you are stronger than all of us. Now, for the matter of a title, have you picked one?”

It wasn’t even a challenge. “I will be known as Darth Tempest, though I prefer to be addressed as Wrath, or Lord Wrath. And please, tell me what to do to get my apprentice’s status upgraded to lord.”

“Ah yes, the turncoat Jedi. She terrifies some of our leaders, you know.”

“That’s probably for the best, my lord. She is a formidable fighter in her own right, and though her power is not as some have claimed, she is smart and insightful and dedicated to the Dark Side.”

“The Dark Side as you understand it, I presume?” He wasn’t pulling punches, and Xhareen was glad. She had no illusions that Darth Marr was anything but fully informed about her past.

“The Dark Side as my original master taught it. Years ago, before Vengean had him, his wife, 11 children and assorted acolytes and staff purged.”

“I had assumed as much, that you were one of Neveris’s alien children. You know, there are many in the ranks who still believe you are human, and then those who whisper that you are not.”

“Let them whisper all they want. I was born in the Empire although I assume I only just became a citizen today. I might be the first alien in this rarefied air, my lord, but I assure you, I will not be the last.”

Marr let out a deep, booming laugh. “You are a joy, my dear. I see what Vowrawn sees in you. Maybe not the same thing the Emperor’s people saw in you, but you can clearly make yourself an asset among this body and carve your own path.”

“Thank you, my lord. But for now, all I wish to do is show my apprentice the sacred sites and then board the next shuttle for Dromund Kaas to surprise my husband.”

“You shall have free reign to do so, Lord Wrath, but I hope we can catch up again sometime soon.”

Xhareen rose, and so did he. He extended his hand once again. She shook it and smiled. “As do I, Darth Marr.”

~~~~~

Darth Marr looked at the still nearly full glass the Wrath had left behind. He didn’t need the confirmation to see the obvious, as he had sensed it: The Emperor’s Wrath was with child. That would make things very interesting indeed.

~~~~~

Tremel dropped his head and his lip trembled slightly when he heard Xhareen was going to take the title Darth Tempest.

“Thank you, Overseer, for remembering who it was you rescued,” she said.

“My dear, I have not worn that title for many months now. You outrank me such that you could erase my existence right here in this room and none could speak ill of you for it.”

“I would never do that. I just don’t know what to call you.”

“My given name is Farahn, though Tremel will do, too.”

“Farahn. I owe you so much. I am truly grateful.”

He bowed his head. “Your apprentice has expressed a desire for a quick tour of the Sith sites. I will go arrange a shuttle and a guide for you, as Rathari here has something he’d like to say.” Tremel disappeared into the throng and out of the cantina.

Rathari moved to the chair next to Xhareen where Tremel had sat. Jaesa raised an eyebrow, then took a quick drink from her glass of ale. “Hey, my lord,” she said, emphasizing the last two words and smiling. “Shall I get you anything?”

“If they still have the roasted fowl on a stick here, I’ll take a few dozen of those, and something light, like a fruit juice. I’m starving, but I need to keep my head clear,” she said. Jaesa left to make her way through the crowd and to the bar.

“My lord,” Rathari said once she was gone. “Darth Decimus has requested I join in the effort on Corellia. I am most happy to fight by your side.”

“We would be happy to have you, Rathari. Was this what you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Yes, my lord,” he said, then dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned even closer to Xhareen. “That, and to let you know Decimus is concerned about the doings of rogue Sith on the planet. Given my rather debased status, I am to attempt to infiltrate them to find out what they are planning. But after that is through, I would be honored to join you in battle.”

He had been a worthy opponent on Nar Shaddaa. But he had changed so much, she wondered if he was as strong as he used to be. The switch from unchecked ambition to passion as motivation was not easy to make. She considered briefly how well it had worked for Naman Fal’s son.

“I know what you are thinking my lord, although forgive the presumption,” he said, his voice returning to normal. “I turned from the path of cruelty and savagery under Tremel’s guidance and it has strengthened me, solidified my purpose. I am a better fighter than I was at our last meeting and now that Baras is ended, it is time I prove it.”

“Then welcome aboard,” she said, “although like my old friend, I don’t know your given name, either.”

He bowed, his hand on his heart. “It is Eddon, my lord.”

“Welcome, Eddon. I am sure this will be a profitable alliance.”

Jaesa returned shortly with drinks and snacks for everyone. Rathari stayed by Xhareen’s side, and the dutiful apprentice said nothing.

Xhareen decided to tell her later that she was now a Lord of the Sith.

~~~~~

After they’d viewed the main sites closest to the Academy, Xhareen was getting ready to order the shuttle pilot to take them to the old burial grounds. But Jaesa interrupted.

“Listen, Xhareen, you defeated the man who would have murdered me and my parents, you got me honored with a title and an income and I know all you want to do is get on that shuttle to Dromund Kaas and rip Quinn’s clothes off of him. We can tour Korriban some other time. I’m going back to the academy and I’ll have Djôrin get me back to Corellia and I’ll wait for you on Zavaa’s ship. I’d like to spend some time with Vette again.”

Xhareen hugged her. “Thank you for everything, Jaesa. I’m just glad you didn’t have to fight anyone over my smoking corpse.”

“Me, too. Like you would never believe!”

~~~~~

Xhareen accompanied her back to the academy. Djôrin was there to meet them. She told him what Jaesa required, then asked for some place she could make a secure holocall.

“Yes, Lord Wrath,” he said. “I was told by my lord to meet you here to escort you to the private office you’ve been granted use of anytime you visit the planet.”

Now that’s a welcome surprise, she thought. She was glad Djôrin was a quick walker because she might have run to the place had she known how to get there.

~~~~~

She first tried the Imperial military HQ, then was shunted to the training facility where Quinn’s troops were. When it was discovered he wasn’t there, she was ready to scream when she remembered the name of Quinn’s family contact. “Get me Admiral Drayton Quinn, then,” she told the quaking corporal who was routing communications.

A handsome man who was clearly a Quinn, if advanced in years, answered the call. Xhareen was getting ready to introduce herself when he said, calmly, “You are Lord Wrath and my niece. Welcome to the family, my dear, if I am allowed to call you that.”

The man knew how to use his charm, and not the unctuous kind. She wondered if Quinn’s father had been as blessed.

“When we are alone or among only family, that is perfectly acceptable, Admiral,” she said.

“Please,” he responded. “Call me Drayden or Uncle Drayden if you will.”

She beamed. Both of her parents were only children. “I’ve never had an uncle. Uncle Drayden it is.”

“I assume, if I may, that you are trying to locate my nephew,” he said. “He has left his unit for some R&R and is spending some time at his family’s home. Alone, I’m afraid. His mother and sisters are planning to leave Ziost soon.”

“You’re a well-connected man, Drayden. I’m impressed. Does Malavai know Baras is dead?”

He shook his head. “I did not presume, my dear. I thought you might want to deliver the good news yourself. Or in person, perhaps.”

“I’d like to contact him first, let him know I’m on my way. My shuttle is leaving any minute now and I can be there by evening, Dromund Kaas time.”

“Very good. Here’s the frequency and the key code for the family’s main holo, and I’m also sending you the gate codes and clearance so the guardian droids don’t do something stupid.”

“I am looking forward to meeting you in person, Uncle Drayden,” she said.

“Oh, you will, but not this trip, I fear. Otherwise, I have arranged the rest of the family’s return so that you and your husband have some alone time first. They’ll see you on the morrow, our time here. Quinn out,” he said.

~~~~~

The holo crackled and took a few seconds to resolve. But she was soon rewarded with the image of the only person she wanted to see.

“It’s done, Malavai. Baras is gone. We’re all safe. I know we don’t have much time, but I’m heading to Dromund Kaas now.”

Quinn had his hand over his mouth. He nodded a few times and then moved it away. “I am so sorry I doubted you, my love. That is the best news I have ever heard.”

She wanted to smirk, but she caught herself in time. _Oh, my darling_ , she thought. _I hope what I’m going to tell you when I see you is even better._

“Get all your apologies out of your system in the next 12 hours, husband. We have much more important things to discuss,” she said.

“I’m counting on it. See you then,” he said. Then he stood back a bit and bowed deeply as the image cut out.

~~~~~

 


	35. Family is Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But first, Malavai gives Xhareen a very special grand tour

 

The Quinn’s estate was smaller than the one Xhareen had just inherited, but not far from the city core and therefore, considered more valuable and of higher status. Not that Ekkage would have been concerned about status among Imperials and who knew what she required the privacy for. Xhareen shuddered. She’d have to talk to Malavai about hiring a staff to clear out and get their new home ready for when Corellia was won.

Because she had every intention of quitting the war effort once that was done, so that she could keep the life within her safe. Maybe Quinn could get a posting here, too, so they could start their new life together. She had the authority now to see to it, though she’d hardly do that if he wanted to stay with his new unit.

She understood now what it took to hold an official position in the Empire. And more often than not, it took sacrifice.

But she put all thoughts of that away as she punched her codes first into the outer gates, walked for what seemed like a half hour and then into the front door. She was somewhat surprised when Malavai didn’t greet her there.

She entered the foyer. The home radiated old wealth, with gold-plated statuary and mythral frames surrounding holopics of great military battles in Imperial history.

She walked into the main room, her gaze immediately catching an old family holopic. She reached up to touch the face of a youthful Malavai when she heard him, behind her, clearing his throat.

He was wearing an old-style men’s smoking jacket – something that hadn’t been popular since his grandfather’s age at the latest. Then she noticed that the burgundy Lashaa silk velvet jacket was all he was wearing. He made no effort to hide … well, anything that was showing.

“You’re late, wife,” he said. “But as I have scheduled a tour of the house, at least the few rooms we can access right now, I will not be deterred from that task.”

She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or respond obediently. “You’re going to give me the grand tour without pants, Major? Aren’t you out of uniform?”

He didn’t miss a beat. She’d never seen him quite so far into a roleplay like this. “This is the proper uniform for this establishment, wife.”

She walked over and took his arm. “Then lead the way, husband, but be quick about it. I hope I can restrain myself until we get to a large, sturdy bed.”

“Oh, you will restrain yourself, my dear. Because I’m leading you to the most comfortable bed in all the galaxy where the payoff will be spectacular.”

He wasn’t joking at all.

~~~~~

Quinn was not exaggerating about the vintage overstuffed mattress on the spacious guest room bed where they had landed their tired and needy bodies after Quinn’s half naked house tour. Pure Alderaanian flutterplume down, he told her after the first round.

After the second round, when they were both spent, Xhareen laid against his chest and played with the dark hairs on his forearm, tracing patterns and moving her fingers against the grain until he started to giggle and begged her to stop.

She sat up, facing him. He rested his near hand on her leg, his other still tucked behind his head so she could see the beauty sculpted in his softly flexed arm muscles.

“Do you know why I told you about Dr. Lokin needing my medical records?”

“I assumed it was so you could tease me about being a gardener and seeing my backside. It did feel like that whole exchange was a set up. You knew I’d be blushing at some point.”

She nodded. “That was partially true, but there’s something else. It’s serious.”

He sat upright and pulled his arm down, reaching out for her other side. “Are you OK? You’ve been rather subdued since you got here, not that we had much chance to converse before this. I was worried but then I thought it might just be all the business with Baras and … ”

“I’m pregnant.”

Xhareen promised herself she wouldn’t just blurt it out but like so many promises, this one slipped through her grasp, depositing itself on Quinn with its life-changing implications with all the decorum of a bead of sweat falling from a brow. He had admonished her about her stims, and she had been truthful when she said she’d renewed it on their last visit to Dromund Kaas before Baras sent them to Quesh to be killed.

But it wasn’t as though he had accompanied her and so he had to trust that she was telling the truth. Now, he would think she had lied. He would turn her out as he’d turned out his last love interest for breaking her vow to be true to the Empire. Now she had failed him, like he failed her, and she felt a dark veil being tossed over her head.

Until she dared to look up at his face. 

It was as though both suns on Tatooine had risen simultaneously. He pulled her in close, nearly knocking her off balance. He kissed the side of her face and whispered “by the stars” several times.

“Are you OK?” she asked him back. “I was going to tell you but you decided to tease me with that tour business with your bottom parts hanging out from under that jacket, and then you showed me this old bed and I couldn’t think of anything but my need for you.”

“OK? It’s marvelous! I know you said you were on stims, but they aren’t 100% effective. I know it was a longshot but I told you I do think about us being parents and how much I want children with you.” He reached over and took both of her hands. He was genuinely happy, and she had done this for him. It helped ease her mind considerably.

“When Dr. Lokin told me, my first thought was that you’d probably prepared some kind of contingency report for raising children on a starship.” She laughed, partly to cover the sniffles that the sudden flood of emotions was causing.

“You know me too well, darling. But I hope it won’t be necessary. You’ll stay here on Dromund Kaas then, yes?”

“No, I have to get back to the war for a time at least.”

He pulled away from her but kept a tight grip on her hands. “Is that wise? Is it safe? Xhareen, nothing must happen to you or our baby.”

Xhareen had read the files before giving them to Dr. Lokin. Quinn had all types of readings of her physiology, and had linked some medical journal articles he’d scrounged up somehow, but he had almost nothing about Miralukan pregnancies. He probably knew they lasted longer by a full Imperial month than a human pregnancy, but she doubted he’d read anywhere about the most important moment between conception and birth, a moment that set her kind apart from other species.

A moment that, if the child were of pure Miralukan blood, might have already happened. But with its human heritage thrown in, there was still time.

“Darling, you know our pregnancies last longer than in humans. It’s still early. The baby hasn’t quickened yet, and I promised Darth Decimus I would assist. That, and I don’t want to tell the Dark Council yet. I’ve only just been recognized as the Wrath. If I simply storm onto the scene and leave, it could be even more dangerous as fighting on a battlefield. I cannot look weak, or there will be a plot to assassinate me, guaranteed.”

Though she’d been well-received by most of the council, she also knew there were several members who’d been allied with Baras, whether out of fear of their secrets being revealed or being of a sameness of mind about the Emperor, she didn’t know. And not knowing was also dangerous. As long as she proved her worth to the Empire, gaining allies in the military and winning points with council members, she could stay alive and protect everyone she cared about.

Quinn nodded, though he looked defeated. “Sith politics,” he said, as though uttering a curse.

They sat in silence until a quizzical look crossed Quinn’s face. “You said ‘quickening,’ as though it’s an event? Is that the case? I hadn’t finished doing my research on Miralukan physiology when … when everything went down on Voss.”

“It’s the moment when the Force spirit of the child connects with the mother and announces its intention to be born, at least that’s how we think of it. Obviously, biology has something to say in the matter. It’s not a vision or anything like that, more of a conversation in the dark blackness of space and time. Though I will learn the child’s gender identity, and perhaps whether the child will be strong in the Force.”

“What if the child is Force blind?” Quinn asked. Of course, he’d immediately start thinking of the gravest scenarios. She wanted to just hug him into silence, but she knew better.

“That’s very rare among my people, Malavai. If I progress too far without it happening, there are tests. I’m sure Dr. Lokin can be briefed on the medical ones, and I can go to Covenant if needed for the Force tests.”

She prayed it didn’t come to that, for the health of her child and because she wasn’t ready to go back to the home she’d abandoned so long ago.

“Don’t be so sad, my love. We’re going to be parents!”

She leaned into his chest, and in no time, he put his arms around her. She was safe here. He was genuinely happy about the baby. The war would certainly intervene, but for now, it could wait.

“Oh, by the way, darling. Your family will be here by morning. Your Uncle Drayden, who’s a real charmer, arranged it so we’d have some time together.”

“Perfect. I am anxious to see them again and to have them meet you.” Quinn kissed her on the forehead and then got up. He put the smoking jacket on and went toward the door, but then thought twice and headed for the duffel bag Xhareen had failed to notice on their way in. He pulled out a pair of black silk loungers and put them on. “I’ll go see whether the replicators are working and if not, we can go out to dine somewhere nice.”

She prayed the replicators were functional because she didn’t want to waste a moment of this time together.

~~~~~

Morning came all too soon. Xhareen’s wish had been granted, and Quinn had returned with some rather basic food and they spent the rest of the night in the guest room bed.

She got up and went to the refresher. She was happy to see the shower was of the most modern model. She set it for aqueous mode and let the hot water stream down on her. Quinn came in, saying nothing, and stood behind her, reaching around to pull her toward him. Fortunately, the shower head was large enough to keep them both wet and warm.

Quinn pulled an arm away and returned it quickly, soap in hand. He began to lather Xhareen’s body – tenderly, sensually – from her neck down to her feet. Then he stood back up and gently shampooed her hair. She wanted to start sobbing with joy but she needed to keep her wits about her now.

She was going to meet the in-laws within the hour.

When she was fully washed off, Quinn handed her the soap and smiled. She returned the favor. He even bent over so she could shampoo his hair, too.

It was a precious moment she hoped she remembered forever.

~~~~~

“Why aren’t my gate codes working?” Ellys Quinn demanded.

“Because Uncle Drayden changed them, remember?” her daughter Kayda reminded her.

She “pffft,” moved back, and let Kayda key in the codes. Rissa had her arms full with the baby, and the droid was pulling a carryall with their luggage.

“Calm down, Mother,” Rissa said. “Malavai is going to be overjoyed to see you.”

“Yep, and we get to meet his Sith,” Kayda added. “Lucky bastard.”

“I can’t wait to meet your wife, Kayda, or do you intend to stay single the rest of your life? I never thought you’d be the last of my children to settle down.”

Kayda shrugged. She’d never had a relationship that lasted very long. “Who knows, Mum? Maybe I’ll meet someone after I re-enlist.”

Ellys clucked her tongue. “We’ll get into that nonsense later. I want to see my son.”

Kayda kissed her mother on the cheek. “We all want to see him. Let’s get going.”

~~~~~

Malavai and Xhareen were waiting in the foyer inside the grand entrance way. He had his arm around her, and kept reassuring her everything would be OK, his family would adore her, they’d be happy to hear about the baby, especially his mother.

All of which turned out to be true. Malavai made the introductions, rather formally at first, until Kayda simply said “Bring it in!” to Xhareen and the two women hugged. Xhareen liked her immediately.

Even Ellys seemed to warm up when Xhareen smiled at her, although she didn’t waste a moment before asking, “So, my son, when were you going to tell me you’re going to be a father!”

Xhareen couldn’t help it when her jaw dropped. Malavai blushed, but countered: “I only found out last night myself.”

Xhareen held up her hands. “I had to wait to tell him in person. We’ve been separated for over a month. I found out a day or so after he left for training.”

It was then that Ellys began to cry, and Malavai took her and escorted her to the main room. He sat next to her on the long sofa. Xhareen sat on her other side and took her hands.

“It’s been too long, son. And I’m sure you’re about to tell me you have to rush back to the front or something similar.”

“I have the whole day, Mother. I need to be back with my unit before midnight. It’s a three-hour flight.”

“My dear, are you running out on me, too?” she asked Xhareen.

“I actually have some errands to attend to regarding property matters. I can stay the night and take care of them tomorrow, if that’s OK.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, Kayda, go open up the house so we can get some food. I don’t want my grandchildren to go hungry!”

~~~~~

Xhareen went with Quinn to the military transport zone that evening. “I don’t want to go,” he said. “I don’t want you to go. I know it has to be otherwise, but I’m not going to hold in my concerns for you. Who will tend your wounds? Who will keep your armor working? Who will ….”

She put her finger on his lip. “Shhh, my love. I have a plan. I’m sure you will find it a good one.”

She told him. He nodded. “Not as good as having me by your side, but I’m certain after today, it will do.”

They kissed and held onto each other until the first klaxon blew, announcing the shuttle’s imminent departure.

“If I stay any longer, I can’t be certain …” he began.

“Go, Malavai. I’m sure we’ll see each other again as we cheer the Empire’s victory over Corellia.”

He nodded and put his hat on his head, then held his hand over it.

Xhareen laughed and reassured him she wasn’t going to steal this one.

“I love you, Xhareen. I can’t wait to be a family.”

“Wait until you see our new home. I’ll send you holos once it’s been cleaned up some.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said. “Until Corellia is won, my love.”

“Until then.”

He turned away and didn’t look back. Xhareen stayed in the hangar until the shuttle lifted off and the bay doors closed again.

~~~~~

When she got back to the Quinn estate, Kayda and Rissa were the only ones still awake. Baby Malavai was asleep and so was Ellys. Kayda pulled out three tubs of nerfmilk ice cream and led them to a small study that had previously been locked up.

“I hope this day wasn’t too stressful for her,” Xhareen said, tucking into the dessert like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“She spoke with him before his transfer and seemed to be OK. You being pregnant came as a shock, though,” Kayda said, between bites.

“I’m amazed she could tell. I didn’t think I was showing yet.”

Rissa laughed. “Mother has a sixth sense about that. She told me I was before I even knew it.”

“You sure you want to go back to the war though?” Kayda asked. “I guess it’s different for Sith, but still.”

Xhareen put the ice cream down on the table. “Actually, Kayda. I was going to ask you about that. I know you said you were looking to re-enlist. And I find myself without a Quinn for a medic. Would you like the job? I can requisition you from the military. Pay you better, too.”

Kayda’s eyes grew large. “Wow, I hadn’t even thought about that. I’d have to re-certify for field medic, assuming I get accepted and …”

“Don’t worry about it. I can make it happen if you want. Do what you have to tomorrow to start the process on your end. I’ll have Darth Vowrawn make everything else happen. You can come with me on his shuttle back to Corellia.”

“I’d love it, sister. I can’t wait.”

Xhareen felt as though a boulder had just rolled off her back. She’d have a Quinn beside her now after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	36. Epistolary Interludes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey from Dromund Kaas to Corellia takes about five days. Xhareen and Kayda are taking a hired shuttle back to the conflict. Along the way, the newly configured Nah-garesh/Quinn family members spend that time staying connected after their brief meeting/reunion.

 

**To: Xhareen Nah-garesh**  
**From: Your Husband and the Father of Your Child**

My love,

I am en route back to Corellia. We are taking a large troop transport this time, and are spending most of the journey training and reviewing intel and situation reports. But I’m claiming my commander’s right for a few moments of privacy to type this to you before I fall into my rack for some much-welcomed sleep.

It was so good to see you again but even better to receive your news. I might still be in shock but you can trust that I am going to prepare as much as possible for this most exciting role.

I need to be forthright, though. It pains me to think that I caused such a problem while you were carrying our child. That I doubted you. Honestly, there are days that I simply cannot believe you ever loved me, much less forgave me for what I did. Or didn’t do.

Please don’t worry. You know how I am with my own failures. But I assure you, I am faithfully taking my stims. The process of waging battle helps keep me focused. Corellia represents the Republic’s greatest prize. It would be an honor to gift wrap it for the Empire.

Just know that I love you, Xhareen. I love that you love me. I love that we are starting a family. I love that you reunited me with my family. I am overwhelmed but I am growing to love that feeling, too.

Stay safe, my love. I cannot even contemplate the galaxy without you.

Your loving husband,  
Major Malavai Quinn

p.s.: I have decided to start a journal that I hope to someday share with our child.

  
**To: Major Malavai Quinn**  
**From: Your Eternal Wife**

Quinn,

Be kind to yourself. Be careful. Most of all, be confident in my love for you – and for our child.

The thought of you researching and preparing for fatherhood like there will be some qualification test amuses me. It’s one of the reasons I love you. Never forget that. Never stop being who you are, my love.

I don’t need to say anything else. I know you will be a brilliant battle master and that together, we will win Corellia for the Empire.

I love you above all else,

Xhareen.

p.s.: I think that’s a marvelous idea. I had to upgrade my armor. And by upgrade, I mean I had to get a larger size already!

  
**To: Kayda Quinn**  
**From: Your Mother**

Kayda,

I’m certain you haven’t even bothered to check your luggage, but I put two gifts in there. One for you, and one for your new sister. Please retrieve them as soon as possible.

I hope I wasn’t too harsh during our last conversation. Promise, I’m not going to hassle you any longer. In all those weeks locked up in that safehouse on Ziost, I hope I got my point across to you. Your path was never going to be the same as mine. I enjoyed being a young mother and having a career and having to help manage your father’s career. For me, being anchored was important. That was not the life for you, I get that now.

But 40 isn’t too old to start a family. You still have time. It isn’t the biological clock I’m talking about anyway. You are my daughter, my first child. I watched you more closely than Mal or Rissa. I see it in your eyes, and in your soul, dear daughter.

You are ready for love. The real thing. It will probably be as complicated a relationship as mine was with your father. As Mal’s clearly is with Xhareen. But it will be rewarding and exactly what you need.

So go off, have your last wild adventure and then come home and find a nice girl and settle down. I know, that’s Terrible Mother talk but that’s what you’re getting from me.

Stay in touch. Be safe and smart as you always are, my golden girl.

Love,  
Your Mother

  
**To: Kayda Quinn, MD**  
**From: Your brother the major**

Kayda,

It was beyond wonderful seeing you, Mother and Rissa again. I don’t have a lot of time and cannot write them separately, but please. Convey my love to them.

And above all else, please keep Xhareen safe. I’m counting on you. I’m trusting you are using the journey to brush up on your battlefield skills. I have numerous files on the Covenant about her particular medical needs and history. Xhareen can get you access to them.

I’m sure you’ll get along with the crew famously. I, of course, took a while but it was time well spent. Vette is an excellent medtech, among many other things. Jaesa is a fierce warrior, although I understand she’s been sidelined due to her Jedi past. Xhareen plans to let her oversee their missions from Imperial HQ, to help her develop as a leader. Broonmark is, well, inscrutable most of the time but he is loyal to Xhareen and I have no doubt he would die to protect her. Just don’t get too near him when he’s eating. He does this in the cargo bay and we were all always grateful for that.

Xhareen will undoubtedly introduce you to Zavaa and the Phantom’s crew. My free time is ending, so I can’t expound upon them at the moment, but Xhareen I’m sure will brief you. If you have any questions about Xhareen’s medical treatment, and cannot consult Dr. Lokin, please use the medalert channel to reach me. I have instructed my very capable communications officer, Lt. Kirrika, to forward your calls immediately if at all possible.

I have said nothing to Xhareen, but Kayda, we are expecting heavy conflict when we hit ground. I am confident my troops and I are ready, but it will likely be several weeks of intense fighting to bring the insurgents to heel.

Take care of her, and yourself. I am certain the next chapter of all of our lives is going to be quite interesting.

Your loving brother who finally outranks you* [ _see notes_ ],  
Mal

  
**To: My new sister Xhareen**  
**From: Rissa Quinn D’arville**

Xhareen,

It was beyond wonderful meeting you. I still cannot even begin to thank you for bringing my brother back to me.

I’m not certain he even knows, but I spent most of my life waiting for him to come home. Between him and my father, I was always watching one of them depart in a speeder for school or career. Both gone for months at a time.

But the reunions and holidays were such magic times! Mal and Kayda are really more like siblings, twins even, but Mal was, more often than not, the one I saw as a father figure. Not that our father was a bad parent by any stretch. But Mal had a way of engaging with me – showing me things he’d learned, helping me with my studies – his patience was amazing.

Imagine being a 7-year-old girl watching your dashing older brother head off to a superb career at the Imperial Military Academy, knowing he was close by, unlike your father, who would swoop you into his arms and kiss you and then leave for nearly a year at a time. Mal would email me lessons on physical chemistry or exobiology to close the gap. If he had more than two days off, he’d come home.

Until that horrible year when neither he nor Father returned.

I’m sure Kayda will regale you with theories as to why I married a military man, forgetting that she’s a surgeon, not a psychiatrist. I am not ashamed to be like Mother: happiest when settled. She would never admit it, but she needs help these days managing the properties and the family’s financial holdings and those are things I am good at. I have a loving husband, an adorable son, my brother back and a new sister. If this is boredom, I am fine with that!

I know you said you have new properties of your own to care for, and I’m sure you’ll want to be setting up a home for your own new family, but I hope we can spend time together when you return to Dromund Kaas.

Your new sister,  
Rissa

  
~~~~~

Xhareen shut down the datapad. An uncontrollable need to sob overtook her. She hadn’t seen her own sister since the one and only time she’d visited Dromund Kaas. She was 11, and Xhareen was 13. They hadn’t seen each other for five years and were, for all practical purposes, strangers by then. Naveen had no interest in anything Xhareen was learning or involved in; she’d only tagged along because her parents had finally scored tickets to a Sith opera.

It was very likely Lord Gamheen’s doing, Xhareen thought now, all these years later. Probably a failed attempt to get Xhareen to connect with her younger sibling. She didn’t return the next – and final – time her parents visited.

Where are you, Navi? Mami? Babi? Xhareen thought as she tried without success to silence the sobs that had come with these unwanted thoughts.

Kayda came out from the sleeping cabin with both of her hands full.

“In my first act as your personal medic, I’m prescribing you these. I started reading through Mal’s notes and though it’s clear your hormonal system is more stable than a human’s, I can only imagine all the emotions assaulting you right now,” she said, shoving an extra ration bar and some elegantly wrapped chocolates in her hands.

When Xhareen had finished the goodies, Kayda handed her a small, flat box made of a wood she wasn’t familiar with. “Mother packed this and the chocolates in my bag. This is for you. But not to worry, there are still more of those chocolates.”

Xhareen took the box from her. She wondered when Ellys had found the time to get her something, much less wrap it and slip it unseen into Kayda’s luggage.

She opened it carefully, saving the soft, brocaded fabric the box had been covered in. She lifted the lid to find a holopic frame, upside down.

When she turned it face up, she gasped. It was a picture of Malavai. He couldn’t have been any older than 9 or 10. He was lying on a bed, cuddling a brown and white cat with luxurious fur. His eyes were looking far off, probably toward the stars. The cat was clearly adored and adoring.

Kayda leaned over her shoulder and immediately recognized the photo. “Maker damn that face of his. He loved that furry beast, too. Mother didn’t even need to threaten him to take care of it. He kept it brushed and fed and cleaned up its hairballs so Mother wouldn’t get mad.

“I can’t even remember the cat’s name. He gave it some Sith name, which made my mother seethe … wait. Asha, that was it.”

“Victory,” Xhareen whispered, caressing the image. She felt so oddly overwhelmed with emotions. It was probably her changing hormones, at least she hoped.

“How many times did I want to punch him and then I thought about that face, and the little boy we all wanted to protect, and I just couldn’t.” Kayda laughed. “C’mon, admit it. You’ve wanted to punch him, haven’t you?”

The sobs overtook Xhareen for real this time. “Hey, hey … I didn’t mean to upset you,” Kayda said, giving her a hug.

“I’m sorry, Kayda. You have no idea. I don’t know if I can even begin to explain what’s happened between us.”

“You don’t have to. Not that I don’t want you to … I love a good gossip, don’t get me wrong. But if you don’t want to, I won’t pry. Or at least, I’ll try not to. I’m secretly desperate to know what my brother was up to for those 11 missing years.”

It struck Xhareen, at that moment, that Malavai and his story belonged to other people, not just her. She’d gone so long without a real family. She’d spent so long with others who’d either rejected or been turned out by their families.

She’d always gathered people around her, kept them close, formed an approximation of family. But those groups always disbanded. As much as she cared for the very few who hadn’t completely drifted away – Zavaa, Releah and Myroli – they lived their own lives. There wasn’t the same bond as there was with family.

Now she’d been accepted without question by Malavai’s family and she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Could she hide something so horrible from them, for his sake? Was it her story to tell, or his? Now wasn’t the time to drop such a huge secret on them. Once Corellia was won, maybe. But they really did need to focus on the battles to come.

There were so many other things to say anyway. For his faults, for all his complications, Kayda’s brother was a good, fascinating person and she wanted to make sure they knew that.

“I’ll tell you one thing: He spent almost none of his salary while he was on Balmorra, and when he joined my crew, he spent every last credit that remained on a prototype hyperdrive engine for my ship. Never even blinked at the cost. Vette, who I am assuming you will adore, was sneaking around his personal accounts and she’s the one who figured it out. When she told me about it, I had her wire the exact amount from one of my accounts into his. We never said a word.

“I only just confessed to the deed as we were saying goodbye when he left for Dromund Kaas. He’d figured it out by then, naturally. I’m certain he never spent any of the money I returned.

“That’s just one example. He’s angsty, and complicated, and can be so hidebound you do, indeed, want to punch him. But he is fair and kind and dutiful and patient and I never thought I could love someone like I love him.” Xhareen rested her hand on her expanding waistline.

“You don’t need to say anymore, sister,” Kayda said. “I’m prescribing you get some rest now.”

“I will, I promise,” Xhareen replied.

It was so good to have another family and it will be so good, she thought as she went to the small cabin in the back of the shuttle, to have a home again, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kayda Quinn was a military combat surgeon and saw action during the Great Galactic War. She never pursued promotions and after serving two tours, mustered out as a captain. She has taken a leave of absence from the top trauma center in Kaas City to serve as Xhareen’s combat medic in place of her brother.


	37. An Introduction to the Beginning of the End. Or the End of the Beginning. Whatever. By Vette

Quinn,

I don’t know where or when everything went so wrong. I wasn’t invited to the final events on board the Indomitable, so all I have as I sit here in the gloom and the rain of Xhareen’s new Dromund Kaas home are the files I’ve gathered – yeah, some not so legally – about what happened on Corellia.

About what happened to you and Xhareen.

I’m writing it all down in hopes of getting a certain two boneheads to see reason. Yeah, I’m the one having to be the rational adult now. It’s sapping my energy worse than the lack of sunshine and the mean people on the streets when I dare to walk outside without a slave collar. Why do bad things have to happen during the capital’s rainiest season?

I’m trying not to embellish anything and I guess that’s been made easy by the unbearable sadness I feel for the people I love. Some of this is reconstructed by me but I am trying to stay as close to the truth as possible. It’s over a month later and I just got Broonmark to talk about it. Some of it I got from Xhareen’s fever dreams; not that she had an actual fever, but she was out of it for days after she tried to holo you. She talked a lot more than she realized, I think.

Kayda was a huge help. She’s almost as devastated as Xhareen was, since she feels responsible. I keep telling her it’s not her fault, that neither Xhareen nor you would blame her for what happened. But talking about it seems to be a good idea. I keep bugging Kay to go see a counselor. She leaves the house for most of the day, so I hope that’s at least something she’s doing.

Your mother, Dr. Lokin, Jaesa … when I told them what I was up to, they agreed to talk, too. We all want this settled, one way or another.

I can’t get Xhareen to talk about it much, so I just sit with her and listen to what she is willing to say on her own. She did get out of bed today for more than a trip to the ‘fresher. She’s taken a shower two days in a row, so maybe there’s hope for her recovery yet.

Xhareen’s journals came in handy and since she had authorized me access to them, I did just that. Maybe I shouldn’t have hacked your files, but I wasn’t about to ask when I was so angry and I just took them.

Forgive me later, just read this first.

I care about you, you big dork. I can’t even call you Captain Idiot or anything like that. Maybe I should just stick with Major Disaster and be done with it.

Fix this, Quinn. She can’t. She tried, you panicked. It’s up to you now.

Vette

 

 


	38. On a Darkling Plain, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/n: Chapters 38-46 represent Vette's re-creation of the events on Corellia that she collated to send to Malavai Quinn. If not otherwise marked, journal entries are Xhareen’s. If they are headed “on the northern continent,” it is Quinn writing. He’s a bit better about the technicalities of greetings and salutations in his journals than Xhareen. If it’s in italics, it’s Vette’s notes. There are also several sections in upcoming chapters, headed by notes from Vette, where she has re-created scenes from available documentation and interviews.]

My dearest Malavai,

Inspired by your decision to keep a journal for our child, I have decided to record what’s happening here on Corellia for you, privately. Vette has ensured I can keep this securely in the Covenant’s databanks, thanks to Zavaa’s special technology. Vette seems so happy working with Zavaa and oddly enough, SCORPIO. Vette has quite the workspace set up here in Imperial HQ; military specialists are coming to her for advice now. When the time is right, she and I will make sure you can read this. Until then, I will have to be satisfied with the occasional brief holo or email but be assured, any contact with you is a gift.

**Day 1**

  
I returned to Coronet City to find the rocket trams shut down. The Republic convinced the rebels loyal to them that destroying the city’s infrastructure was the fastest way to thwart the Empire. That might be true, but at what cost to the people? Even if they manage to turn us away, they will still have to rebuild. I find the corporate mentality here most difficult to understand sometimes.

I am now working directly with Darth Charnus, Decimus’s most trusted assistant. I am less than comfortable around him, even though he apparently has not made the connection that I was the tool Baras used to undermine him a year ago over a small group of cultists on Dromund Kaas. Baras had me accept an offer from one of Charnus’s apprentices to infiltrate the cult, gain their trust, then make it look as though Charnus was a ringleader. It blew over rather quickly, for lack of evidence. Also, because apparently, the cultists knew they were about to be attacked and left the planet.

I don’t know if I ever told you, but Baras also used me to get at Darth Vowrawn during my time there just before we met. I suppose in some way, “undermining” them worked against Baras instead. And now Charnus, Decimus and Vowrawn are among those Sith I can count on for support. Coincidence, or inevitability? Now you know why I am so wary of Sith politics.

Keeping them on my side requires little more than results, which I am committed to achieving. I want this to be over. I want us to be together again.

 

**Day 2**

Went to a briefing aboard Darth Charnus’s ship, the Tears of Taris. Sith Intelligence has identified the executives behind the insurgents from Corellian Engineering Corporation, the Republic’s oldest manufacturing concern, and Czerka Corp (of course!). The plan is to steal and use their own tech against them.

Given the list of military might they’ve assembled, including a robot army, it appears Darth Baras really hampered the war effort here by sacrificing the prototype war droids on the Yaroe Star. Sorry, darling, I don’t mean to bring up our difficult recent past, but it is the truth. Taking him out was the best thing for the Empire. I’m just sorry you and I have had to suffer so much in that cause.

We will prevail.

~~~~~  
On the northern continent.

My darling Xhareen,

I have wanted to contact you via holo for several days now, but the fighting has been heavier than we thought and the risk of security breaches even greater than that. So I am keeping notes of what my heart is feeling for you. I can regale you with battle stories later.

You have made me feel so much since the first day we met. Pride, confidence, usefulness, acceptance – these were things I thought would be denied me forever for my part in Druckenwell. Then you made me feel alive again. And then you made me feel love. Those are things I can never thank you enough for.

I am stronger, thanks to you. It lets me serve the Empire to the best of my abilities.  
Even though we are apart, our goal is the same.

For the Empire.

  
Love,  
-M.

p.s.: Have you given any thought to names? If we have a daughter, does she have to take your family name? Why did I not think to ask these things when we were together?  
~~~~~

  
**Day 3**

Heavy planning day. Here’s where I am missing you the most, darling. But, I know, I must lead and this is all part of that. I have learned a lot from you, and I have learned a lot from my experiences and I know I can trust my instincts and that my blades can back them up and that my team will back me up.

We are planning a multi-stage attack. It’s quite thrilling. I must say, privately, I share your skepticism about going for a target like Corellia when the scale of the fighting elsewhere is so vast. We are fighting for our right to exist, yes, but we are also fighting for resources. I’m not sure what we’re expending here in terms of resources and more importantly, Imperial lives, is going to prove useful. Maybe in the long term, but we need to survive until then, and that’s what bothers me.

And then there’s the cost to the people of Corellia. Maybe we can win the war, but can we win the peace? The bombed-out buildings here in Coronet City are enough to haunt my sleep.

Don’t fret. I am considering these dark thoughts but not letting them take my focus off the objectives in front of us.

Thank you for listening and understanding.

~~~~~  
On the northern continent

Dearest X,

The battle for Corellia raged on for months before we got here. Losses on both sides have been staggering. Intel from all fronts tells us the Republic has started pulling its troops, leaving defense against our inevitable victory to the natives.

I am concerned for you, because the reports say the forces around Coronet City and the other industrial and corporate centers on the southern continent are much better trained than the former miners, shopkeepers and school teachers who comprise the insurgent forces here. They are, however, astonishingly well-armed.

Our regiment is spread over a vast area, not an ideal strategy but unavoidable. My forces are better situated around two corundum mines and a processing facility – closer than it sounds. My command center looks little different from the holos I’ve seen of Coronet City corporation offices. Think Sobrik, but with color. And textiles everywhere. I thought my mother was overly fond of carpeting and drapery.

Our biggest challenge is transportation. Most of the infrastructure in this region is geared toward transporting resources, not people. I have lost five soldiers, all of them on speeder flights between bases. No matter how much security we provide en route, there seems to always be an insurgent with a rocket launcher ready to shoot us down.

I have requested planetary command to consider ground transport, while also suggesting we send scouts to find the insurgents and their supplies.

Am I boring you with these details? My apologies, love. It keeps my mind busy and away from darker thoughts.

I long to see your face and hear your voice.

I love you. Stay safe.

-M.

~~~~~ 

**Day 4**

[ _Note: Xhareen didn’t really write up the battle, but since Jaesa and I were overseeing the operation from HQ, I used our recordings to reconstruct what happened. Didn’t you teach her to write after-action reports? Seems she forgot how. See, she still needs you. – V._ ]

Xhareen, Vector, Kayda and Broonmark set off before dawn. Czerka Corp’s troops guarded a huge stretch of Incorporation Island starting about 2 kilometers from the Imperial Protected Zone in the heart of Coronet City. Czerka had built most of the area centuries ago. Its executives gave the city its shape and its structure and its really boring architecture.

But they sold off most of their creation over time, mostly to low-income housing and businesses to support its employees, so that it took a trained eye and a good map to distinguish a military target from a civilian one.

Since the rebellion against the Empire began, the larger corporations like CEC, Czerka and dissidents in Horizon Enterprises repurposed their own troops to support the rebels, since CorSec appeared to have abandoned the fighting for now. They called them “assault camps,” but they were more like camp outs for bored people stuck in buildings for too much of their lives.

Czerka’s troops weren’t all that great, but there were a lot of them. Even a strike team led by the Emperor’s Wrath needed stealth and good planning and a sound strategy to pull off what came next.

Xhareen ordered Kayda to stay in cover whenever possible. For the most part, Broonmark guarded Kayda while Xhareen and Vector set out to place small bombs and flash grenades at multiple locations. The plan was to make it look like an assault progressing toward CEC headquarters so that the troops would abandon the outlying facilities.

Their real target was the facility housing the Hullcracker development team. They needed the large trunk-sized bomb to blow a hole in the heavily shielded walls of CEC, where the controls were for the ion cannons paralyzing the rocket tram system.

Commander Jaskal of the Imperial Guard met up with the team just west of the target building. “We would have been here sooner, but we took the route closer to the zoo. A small pride of nexu took out both Czerka nests we thought we’d have to neutralize,” he said.

“Maybe it was a good idea to conquer this planet. They have no clue how to train troops, do they?” Kayda said, as she patched up several of Jaskal’s wounded commandos.

“True, but they certainly know how to shield buildings,” Xhareen replied. “They’ve spent centuries more afraid of keeping their secrets away from each other than of any external threat.”

“I guess that’s the corporate life,” Kayda said. Both she and Jaskal seemed surprised that corporations could have so much money and power and so much to lose and yet send people out so unprepared.

“I have to admit, I must be too Imperial to understand it,” Jaskal agreed.

Vector looked at Xhareen. They’d spent years outside of Imperial Space. Both had seen disorganization and chaos on a much larger scale. “We only need to hope they fall for our ruse,” Vector added quietly.

“It’s almost too easy, not like a hunt at all,” offered Broonmark, who rarely spoke around anyone but Xhareen.

“Well, none of us can lose our focus,” Xhareen said. “Come on, let’s get the last few attacks done so we can ensure our path to the Hullcracker is clear.”

As arranged, Jaskal sent some of his troops to engage the enemy closer to the HQ building. Once it was determined the troops had left the Hullcracker facility undefended, the team fought their way inside.

Jaskal’s contingent went for the Hullcracker device, while Xhareen and her team fought through minimal defenses to get to the offices of one Brall Tavar, who kept the detonation codes.

An odious little man, Tavar proved to be no challenge, and handed over the codes immediately, even entering them into a triggering device without being further provoked. The wrinkle was that, when they entered the tomb-like conference center, Tavar had already opened a holo channel to a more challenging target: Benton Maas over at CEC. “Better to die free than live under the Empire’s fist, Tavar,” he shouted right as Tavar cut the channel.

Not only did Tavar vow his loyalty to the Empire, he gave Xhareen and Jaskal a detailed analysis of what they’d be facing over at the Czerka facility, now that Maas and a large droid army knew they were coming. Of greatest concern was the C-9X wardroid, which supposedly outperformed anything the Empire had developed to date.

~~~~~  
A troop transport took the team to the border of Imperial-controlled territory. They’d have to make their way to CEC on foot. Along the way, they successfully attacked several key signal towers that would, intel had assured, disrupt CEC’s ability to control its droid army. An armored shuttle would deliver the Hullcracker as soon as they got within the external security fence.


	39. On a Darkling Plain, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Vette's re-creation of Day 4's assault, continued.]

**Day 4, continued.**

The problem with Corellia’s love of massive facilities is that there is no way to perfectly guard and watch every centimeter of ground they covered at all times, at least not while a war is being fought all over the sprawling city.

On Charnus’s orders, another Imperial Guard unit began an assault on CEC’s durasteel broaching facility, one of the last not bothered by the war.

Vette skillfully hacked the gate controls that would get them access to a long-closed delivery entrance. Satellite imagery showed the shielding here was weakest, since the spot was half a kilometer from the building’s core.

The demolitions team almost finished rigging the Hullcracker when a Czerka shuttle began to spew troops who rappelled inside the security fence.

Xhareen and Vector leaped simultaneously into the first group of them, Vector stunning them and Xhareen finishing them off with controlled swipes of her blades. Broonmark held back until a second group landed, then he screamed and shrieked, distracting them long enough for Vector to leap over to his aid.

Xhareen prepared herself for the third wave. As she prepared to leap to them just before they touched ground, a stray blaster bolt struck her armor. She fell back and was about to call out to Kayda, even though it would have exposed her medic’s position, when she felt the comforting hum of a wave of energy revitalizing her armor.

She stood up. The third wave of assault troops was nearly on her. In a blur of lights, she fended off the wave of plasma bolts coming at her. Apparently two of the troopers had never seen a Sith at work and they hesitated, giving Broonmark and Vector a chance to pick them off handily.

Xhareen mowed down the three remaining troops, but the shuttle that had deposited them began to arc away from the facility. She risked a winding saber toss that hit the shuttle’s rear repulsor before her blade obediently returned to her main hand. The shuttle attempted to fly away, but crashed just outside the security fence. It was a good thing Vette thought quickly and had turned the force field back on, Xhareen thought.

The courtyard was clear of any more threats. It was time to take the building.

The team regrouped. Kayda started to apologize, but Xhareen interrupted her. “If there’s anything I can train you not to do that your brother does all the time, that would be unnecessary apologizing,” she said.

Kayda laughed. “You know us Quinns too well.”

 

~~~~~

Xhareen held the key to an easy infiltration in her hands. It took mere seconds to trigger the suppression sequence, shutting down all the droids in the facility, not just the ones massing to kill them.

Except for the C-9X, which Xhareen knew they would have to fight. She wished, in so many ways, that Baras hadn’t used the two wardroids on the Yaroe Star for his own selfish purposes. 

The team made it to a control console. Vette had smartly prepped Xhareen on how to extract the code she'd need using the device they wrested from Taval. The download began as expected, but just before it had completed the signal stopped and a holo image appeared over the console.

Xhareen gasped, because for the briefest of moments, she thought it was Overseer Tremel. Why would he be aligning himself with CEC? Was he -- the first person she had trusted in so long, the one who finally came through on the promise she'd been made as a girl, to make her Sith -- was he going to betray her, too? She knew Rathari was somewhere on the planet, had Tremel come along with his own agenda? Was Vowrawn cutting her loose, too, now that she had finished his work for him?

Then the vision started to speak, and she realized. It wasn't him. It was Benton Maas. Just the man they needed to see.

"You may have infiltrated our facility, Sith," he seethed. "But you will not get past C-9X."

On cue, the biggest wardroid they'd ever seen scuttled into the foyer from a side room, flanked by four other droids that had not been affected by the initial disabling transmission. They must have been slaved to the C-9X's frequency.

"Say hello to the perfect marriage of Czerka lethality and CEC ingenuity," Maas boasted. "Cost a fortune to develop, but that's the cost of freedom. This marvel is an investment in CEC's future. Nothing is more important."

"Spare me the boardroom bravado, Maas," Xhareen said as she cut the transmission. She tossed the signal device to Kayda and nodded.

The C-9X began to power up its weapons but before it could fire, Broonmark and Vector set on the smaller droids, taking them down quickly as the larger droid advanced toward Xhareen. She deflected the first round of blaster fire with her blades, but it became clear quickly that it probably would wear her down long before it ran out of power cells.

Vector and Broonmark, armed with vibroswords, were no match for the war droid's armoring. Kayda had taken a defensive position behind an overturned table and kept Xhareen's armor as charged as she could.

"Vector!" she called out as she was beginning to feel her energy flag.

"We answer the call," he shouted back.

The C-9X hesitated and turned toward where Vector and Broonmark had been -- but Vector had jumped away and as the beastly droid turned, Broonmark jammed his weapon into the nearest knee joint.

Vector jumped back into the fray, doing the same on a back joint.

They kept it distracted long enough for Xhareen to jump up in a high arc, landing in the body with her sabers, tearing two long marks into its chassis. It continued firing, so perhaps Maas’s confidence in the thing wasn’t entirely misplaced.

Kayda ran back toward the console and pressed the buttons Xhareen had. Within a few seconds, the device beeped ready and she pointed it at the droid. It sputtered and shut down. Xhareen opened a larger hole in the chassis, then rammed a saber through its exposed processing core, just for good measure.

 

~~~~~

Xhareen and the team moved through the corridor between the lobby area and the conference room where Maas was holed up as quietly as possible. But when they got there, Maas apparently was not done bragging.

“Business is war, gentlemen. We’ve almost got this scum beat,” he said right as they entered the room behind him.

Several of his colleagues pointed at the Sith, with two lit lightsabers, the tall human female sporting a blaster, the black-eyed humanoid and the Talz, both with humming vibroswords. Maas spun into action, ordering the two rows of droids to attack.

The droids just stood there. So did the eight other people in the room.

Xhareen held up the signal emitter box. “You were saying?” When they saw that, a few of the executives dove for cover.

Still, Maas stood his ground. Xhareen admired his bravery, but it was his cooperation she needed most. “Grant me access to your ion cannon controls so we can stop the senseless destruction of your planet, Maas,” she demanded.

“No, Sith. You’ll have to kill me. All of us. CEC stands for something.” He turned to his colleagues, most of whom he couldn’t see now because more had joined the group under the conference table. “Stand up, you cowards! This is our chance to do something.”

Then he looked back at Xhareen, who had removed the plasteel zip cuffs from her tool belt. “If you enslave CEC, Sith, it won’t be with our help,” he said.

One of the executives, a heavy-set man who had not crawled under the table, approached her, his hands raised, sparing Maas from doing something incredibly stupid. “Benton, Sith, we cannot let this company and this planet be destroyed. I will disable the ion cannon controls.”

“Do it,” Xhareen said, motioning to Vector and Broonmark to flank him as he did so.

She walked over to Maas. “I’m not going to kill you, but you will need to spend some time as a guest of the Empire,” she said as she cuffed him. She ordered the others to stand up, and she and Kayda cuffed the lot of them.

She left the man who had disabled the cannons uncuffed and punched a few commands into the emitter box. “Droids, take these prisoners to Commander Krade at the Imperial Guard position.” To the helpful executive, she said, “Tell the commander that the Wrath said you are to be taken to HQ under my protection and held until I return. Do as you are told, and none of you will be harmed.”

The man nodded. “Thank you, my lord,” he said.

When the room was clear, Xhareen said, “Let’s go back through the lobby and take some souvenirs from the C-9X droid. I’m sure some Imperial scientists would love to get a look at what made that thing go.”

 

~~~~~

When they made it back to headquarters, Charnus reported in to Darth Decimus, who seemed pleased. “I knew you were one to watch, Wrath,” he said.

The holo had barely gone dark when Charnus turned to her. “Tell me, Wrath, why did you spare those worms Taval and Maas?” he demanded, not pleased at all.

“The insurgents expect us to be violent. Show them benevolence and they’ll forget what they’re fighting,” she replied without hesitating. Xhareen understood who the Empire was fighting much more than those giving her orders did. [ _I guess you know what that’s like, don’t you, Quinn? – V.]_

“Compassion has no place in war,” he chided.

But Xhareen was not to be cowed by someone she technically outranked. “I’m not talking about compassion, Charnus. It’s strategy and we need to be smart if we want to win this war by more than the skin on our teeth. We’ve already wasted too many resources governing people who hate us. Let them see we are here to bring order, not cruelty.”

“I’m not convinced, but if our new guests cause any problems, it will be on you, Wrath,” he said.

Xhareen walked up to him and in a barely hushed whisper said, “In future, Darth Charnus, if you wish to question my judgment, you will do so in private.”

She didn’t even wait for him to reply. She just turned around and walked out.


	40. Thank You For Your Sacrifice

**Day 5**

Darling: We did it! The rocket trams should return to service today. The Imperial Engineering Corps has been amazing at repairing the bombed-out tracks and stations, thanks in part to the rebels’ preference for picking new targets and ignoring the old ones. The dust barely clears, and the IEC is on site for repairs.

After yesterday’s rousing successes, we are lying low. Charnus is concerned about the presence of an undetermined number of Sith here not on official war or Council business. He says it is of no consequence to my mission. I hope that is the case. But we are staying off the streets today and tomorrow just in case.

I’m more tired than I care to admit, so I am resting, my love.

 

**Day 6**

Back to planning. Vette and Jaesa are the inside team while Kayda, Vector, Broonmark and I are out in the field. Zavaa remains in orbit, but is assisting us as much as she can. She has a pet project she’s working on – she seems to have traced a curious pattern of transmissions that might have something to do with a nefarious group she has encountered in the past. It’s bothering her and Vector noticeably. They are reluctant to talk about it, so I’m not going to pry. At least, not yet.

There are still Green Jedi working with the rebels. Jaesa had an excellent plan laid out to steal a set of their green robes and have her infiltrate and gather intel. But I am so afraid she’ll get captured and returned to Tython. I could not bear that, but it also pains me to see her sidelined. Vette is trying to keep her busy and keep her spirits up. Honestly, I have no idea what I would do without them both.

Charnus is impressed with her, and agrees with me that she should be protected from the Jedi and the bounty hunters. We are keeping our options open about the Green Jedi. I am hoping to defer the decision long enough that sending her out is no longer required. There is also a contingent of Jedi from Tython although they seem focused on some unknown objective. It’s causing me great concern what that might be.

Jaesa and I have both sensed an unusual presence among them. Neither one of us can figure out who or what it is. After a disappointing exchange with Charnus after the CEC affair about not murdering every enemy captive in sight, I am reluctant to discuss this with him. I am beginning to see we Sith are not as unified as the Jedi think we are.

 

~~~~~  
on the northern continent:

My love,

The realities of commanding so many other lives hit home today. General Rakton agreed we should attempt to discover where the rebels were hiding, so each battalion sent a squad to suspected sites. All of them encountered resistance.

Two of my scouts were killed. Sgt. Drix'el was injured but should be back on duty within a week. Unlike before, I had to holo the families of the dead. High Command is too backed up to let staff officers do that anymore.

“Thank you for your service as parents. Thank you for your sacrifice for the Empire.” It sounds so hollow, thinking that I am talking about someone’s child, who may have been the light of their life – or not. But I meant it. I hope I was able to convey that.

Please stay safe. I cannot even comprehend … no, I’m not even going to think about it. Good hunting is what I will leave you with.

All my love,

-M.

~~~~~ 

**Day 7**

We have moved temporarily to Labor Valley. I got to talk to Major Tradik, a field commander, who says the fighting in the northern continent is heavy. Please, my love, stay safe.

We had to fight a small group of Republic soldiers to get to the Imperial encampment. I should report Broonmark is especially handy, as Republic troops see him and think he’s one of theirs. Without the ruse, we would have had to make a much bigger noise. Maybe we can make an infiltration specialist out of him yet. Who says you need to be subtle and blend in?

Speaking of not subtle, we have a Corellian asset in our corner, an unctuous councilor named Darbin Sull who would not be out of place in the shadiest of Alderaanian houses. He is loyal to the Empire, since he sees us as his best chance to be made prime minister once the fighting has ended and we claim the planet.

This is a good thing? I cannot say much good about his character, though I won’t besmirch his connections among the rebels or the corporate holdouts. He’s late to briefings because he’s dallying with local women, frequently smells of expensive liquor, secretly trades in spice, but then he says completely Sith things like “the rebels will bow once their hope is crushed.” Tradik is as wary as I am. Charnus finds him useful, for now.

The fighting has left many empty, broken and scarred buildings here, many of them too dangerous to enter. Nevertheless, the desperate rebels are using them as hiding places and staging grounds for their attacks. Those of most concern are hiding in bombed-out munitions factories, where the rebels are using scavenged munitions and weapon parts to inflict a surprising amount of damage to Imperial troops.

[ _This is where you two were finally able to talk by holo. I managed to get a temporary secure channel up and running just for you two. You’re welcome, btw. All I know is Xhareen said you wanted to name the baby Donovar after your great grandfather or someone even if it was a girl. I guess you figured out that didn’t happen. You should have been there, Quinn. This is why everyone is so sad. – V._ ]

 

**Day 8**

We came in contact with the Selonians today. I’m sure you know all about them, my encyclopedic love, but I had never heard of them before. They are taller than you and look quite a bit like wrats, though they have only single ears. They are from one of the neighboring planets in this system.

All of the ones we encountered were females and they are deceptively strong, fierce fighters. They are led by a remarkably strong den mother known as Murthil. She has agreed to help, although she is by no means joining our cause.

Having a diplomat in the party helped immensely. We have left Vector with them – well, he volunteered to remain behind for a time – to continue to develop a relationship.

Once again, I’m not sure Darth Charnus is happy with that strategy but it was my call. We had a contingent of Imperial Guardsmen with us, including an exceedingly competent general, Karlun Hesker, who agreed with my decision and has vowed to ensure our plan is carried out with their assistance and not over their dead bodies. He is blond and broad in all the ways that you are dark and trim but he reminds me of no one as much as you.

I ask every high-ranking officer I come across what they know of the fighting on the northern continent. Hesker said it is still brutal – his word – and my heart may have skipped a beat. But then he mentioned there was one battalion that had not only managed to gain ground, but was doing so with minimal casualties. I’m sure my cheeks were beaming with pride because I know, my darling, he was talking about you.  
~~~~~

on the northern continent  
My love,

It was so good to see you and talk to you, even if it was only over the holo. Like instant R&R. Perhaps we should consider a few days at the Gold Beaches once the fighting’s over. The troops here are all dreaming about it. It gives them something to hope for, to stay alive for.

I understand them completely.

Good hunting,

-M.  
~~~~~

**Day 9**

We decided to scout out an empty factory complex that scans show has not been appropriated by the rebels, just to see what we might be dealing with. We saw a few similar buildings in Coronet City – factory complexes so huge, they had their own on-site housing for workers. There was even a school building for their children in the complex.

An empty school room, with its rows of computer terminals, screens uniformly shattered and chairs scattered to the four corners … I can only pray the Empire can eventually do better for the people of Corellia.

The buildings housing the factory lines proved far less disturbing, though also less stable. Never let it be said Imperial bombs are ineffective. We had to stop halfway through the second structure, and I use that word loosely because there was clearly a contest between the roof and floor to see which would collapse first.

It felt good to get back to the camp and fall onto my assigned cot and just sleep.

~~~~~  
on the northern continent

My love,

I know I mentioned we’ve made an old processing facility our command center. What I didn’t mention is that the facility, like the mines it services, had a large contingent of droids to do work that was too dangerous for organics, such as working areas with hazardous gases.

It made me think: Will you be taking Toovee off the ship? What will you do with the Covenant if you’re not out fighting? Will the Empire pay for its upkeep if you store it at the spaceport? I worry that the expense of this war might make that impossible.

I had three more deaths and four injuries today. We are still far behind the other battalions in casualties, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

My thoughts are scattered right now. I will continue later.

All my love,

\- M.  
~~~~~~

**Day 10**

We have devised a most unusual strategy for attacking the rebels holed up in the bombed-out manufacturing complex. Actually, Jaesa came up with the idea.

A frontal assault would be impossible, given how they’ve fortified the entrances and the fact that we have no idea how sound the structure is. An aerial bombing would be too risky, as the plan is to preserve as much of the structure and any gathered munitions as possible for our own use. We have no idea how strong their anti-aircraft game still is, or how many people might escape. We’d also like the element of surprise, if possible.

We were checking maps and architectural plans when Jaesa came up to the board and said, “If we can’t go in through the front, why don’t we come up through the floor?”

I remembered this, that Alderaanian nobles used tunnels to connect adjacent friendly houses, and for hiding in times of intense fighting. And, as Jaesa pointed out, tunnels were what the Killiks used to infiltrate the castle lands at their last emergence.

Since we happen to have a Killik expert already down in the tunnels, and an experienced demolitions team at Gen. Hesker’s disposal, it was immediately agreed that was the way to go – if we can convince the Selonians that destroying a section of their tunnel grid is in their best interest.

 

**Day 11**

Our sketchy contact, Darbin Sull, brought critical intel today that has changed all our plans. Apparently, the remnants of the Green Jedi are actively aiding and protecting the rebels. According to Darbin's sources, what we thought was their base of operations was their former peacetime headquarters. Since the war, they’ve moved someplace farther out from the fighting and more secure.

Darbin also heard rumors that there’s a former Jedi master working with the secret group of Sith for some nefarious purpose. And that a team of Jedi from Tython was sent to stop them.

Charnus wants to take out the lot of them, but as soon as he said that, I felt a sickening chill I know is not related to the pregnancy. It was a Force warning. Charnus is in the wrong. I’m just not sure whether/how to tell him and the indecisiveness is bothering me greatly.

I have decided to contact the Hand, since they have not seen fit to contact me in weeks now. I confess I had almost forgotten about them. Almost, because they seem to re-assert their place in my memory like an old wound that aches when it rains.

~~~~~  
The Hand deigned to answer my call, but they were of no help. Something is up. Those Sith are not here for the war effort. And I must let the Jedi team take care of it because if I interfere, I fear the whole planet will fall.

I believe I have Charnus convinced that Sull is exaggerating about the Sith plans and that we should stick to the task at hand for now. The Green Jedi were always a top priority and now they are more than ever.

The Hand seem to think I am no longer needed, but I sense no desire to get rid of me. Darling, I don’t mean to scare you with this. I long for the day when we can sit by a fire in our Dromund Kaas home and laugh at my unfounded fears.

 

**Day 12**

Charnus and Sull have devised a plan. Sull will embed himself with the insurgents’ leadership, ostensibly out of fears for his safety. He is to make it seem as though he was captured by the Empire forces but has broken free and needs to find temporary refuge. As soon as he can, he will attempt to learn the Green Jedi’s location and let us know.

I got to punch him in the face to make his story more convincing. It was a good day.

~~~~~  
on the northern continent

My dear Xhareen,

It’s been a few days of hectic fighting, but we located at least one rebel nest and eliminated it. There were more casualties, though mercifully light. Many more on their end, and we rounded up several hundred prisoners. They’ll be put to work in the mines once production begins again.

Dare I confess it was easier this time, contacting the families of the dead? Should that even be possible?

My heart is confused.

Don’t worry about me, though.

Love,

-M.


	41. A Terrible Love of War

**Day 14**

_[Note: Recreated again. Sorry, Quinn, this is going to be hard for you to re-live. But you need to. I mean, it was a great plan in theory. Xhareen really pulled it out of the trash compactor. Maybe that was the problem? -- V.]_

 

Gen. Hesker’s demolitions team opened two holes underneath a corridor in the rear of the old munitions plant, a half city block away from where sensors showed the rebels and Jedi were congregated. Xhareen, Vector and Broonmark led the assault, since they could see in the darkened conditions; Kayda and a squad of Imperial Guard commandos followed.

They took down the scattered guards without raising an alarm. One commando broke his leg falling through a weakened stretch of flooring a few hundred meters in. Kayda patched him up and put him in a side room with medpacs and kolto, then injected him with a nanotransmitter so he could be found again.

But when they got to the central production floor where the bulk of the insurgents were holed up, the insurgents and their green-robed guests were waiting for them. Xhareen was immediately caught on each arm and one leg with cortosis whips. She dropped her lightsabers and screamed but it wasn't enough to break the control the cortosis weapons had over her, negating her ability to use the Force.

"Should have known you'd follow one of the obvious trails we left you, Sith." It was one of the Green Jedi, a middle-aged human woman.

"You leave your garbage everywhere. It was hard to resist," Xhareen replied. The three Jedi holding the whips pulled tighter.

A cadre of rebels with blasters surrounded the team, weapons pointed at each of them. The woman ordered them to drop their weapons, but they didn't.

"This is going to be simple," the Jedi continued. "You, Sith, will let us cuff you. In exchange, we take the rest of your squad into captivity where they will be treated with the respect due prisoners of war."

Xhareen kept seething. "No."

"Fine," the woman said. "We can kill you all then."

"You'd shoot your 'respected' prisoners of war? Just what I would expect of the Republic and your breed of Jedi."

The woman laughed. "You are as delightful as the reports the SIS gave us would have us believe, Wrath of the Emperor. Still, my offer remains. It's the only offer you're going to get."

"Let me counter then with the only option we will give you. You take me into custody to do whatever it is you will, and you let my people go. Any other demand, and I will kill however many of you I can in the few seconds it takes to get these whips off and the cuffs on. You know I can do it. Are you willing to sacrifice your people for mine?"

Broonmark howled and Kayda shouted "No!" as she made the offer.

"Quiet, both of you," Xhareen replied. "I know what I'm doing. Saving your lives is worth it to me. Broonmark, we are clan. Remember that."

"Have them drop their weapons first," the woman ordered.

"No. Take my offer or leave it. As soon as the fools holding these whips are dropped, again, do you want to risk however many of your people I can take out before you light your weapon and I get mine back?"

The woman's face pulled into a scowl. "Alright. Offer accepted. You're the one we want. You took out our leadership council. You're the one who has to pay. The Republic troops or the rebels can take out the rest of your people when we snuff the Empire out of existence."

"I wouldn't have killed them if they'd let me take the traitor you allowed in your ranks for over a decade. You call us barbaric, then refuse to negotiate because that doesn't fit in with your policy of genocide. I had nothing against your people until right now, actually."

"Stop the sermon, Sith," the Jedi seethed. "Have your people at least lower their weapons and we will escort them safely back to the tunnels. We don't wish to engage the Selonians, as we will need their help to rebuild once your Empire is gone from here. Clever plan, by the way. We didn't even expect that until we saw you on the security cams."

"Vector," Xhareen said, "lead them back to the infil point. Broonmark, you will be the last to go down to make sure our new friends don't renege on the deal. And trust me, all of you. You don't want to anger a Talz.

"And you, Jedi, once I hear from Vector that they are safely away from your people and not being followed, I'll let you cuff me without any problem."

The woman nodded at one of the insurgents, as Vector turned to go back through the facility. "Take care, Xhareen. We'll be awaiting your safe return," he said.

"Tell everyone not to worry and Vector, diplomatic channels only, are we clear?"

"Yes. Understood," he said.

Xhareen spent an uncomfortable 15 minutes or so until Vector signaled from safely behind Selonian lines that the team was safe, including the wounded commando, and Selonian scouts were stationed along the route to ensure no insurgents or Green Jedi came through the breach holes. Then, she submitted to having the over-sized cortosis cuffs placed on her wrists.

"Now that you and your animalistic powers are subdued, Sith, we can be more civil. My name is Nakomi Caron. I was supposed to be at that meeting you so blithely interrupted with your murdering spree, but I was detained because my transport was sabotaged by traitorous CorSec employees."

"What I said before was the truth, Nakomi. I only meant to capture the Sith spy because she was allied with my former master, who was a danger to all the galaxy, not just your people."

"Yes, yes, I know occasionally you Sith take out your own trash, but that doesn't matter. A Sith was still responsible for seven dead leaders and a great disservice to Corellia."

Seven, Xhareen thought. There were nine Jedi on the council. Nakomi made eight.

"Who'd I miss then?" she asked.

Nakomi laughed, then gestured to one of the five other Jedi in the room. "The best of us, actually. Our master, Arvin Ramos."

Ramos, a veteran of the Great Galactic War and the battle of Alderaan, was the one leading the collaboration between the Green Jedi and the insurgents, Charnus had said. He was the real target. Take him down, and the insurgents wouldn't be able to hold out for long without his leadership and expertise.

The other Jedi came forward with a syringe. "You'll be taken to Ramos after a short nap, Sith," Nakomi said.

The Jedi reached for Xhareen's upper arm when one of his colleagues called out "Stop! Don't inject her with that!"

Nakomi turned to a young Mirialan woman. "What is it, Syri?"

"That one, Master. She's with child. That drug could harm an innocent life."

Nakomi snorted. "I doubt any Sith are innocent even before birth. But you're right. Our Tythonian companions would be most upset if I did that knowingly. Get a hood and a set of cuffs for her ankles. We're transporting her to ..."

"Um, Master ..." another young Jedi, a male Miralukan, interrupted. "She's sadly one of my people, clearly a traitor. The hood is of no use."

"I'm from Covenant, fool. We left the homeworld of our own accord millennia ago," Xhareen corrected. "But if you put the hood on, and wrap the cortosis whips around it, that should settle any qualms about my seeing where it is I will be when I kill your leader."

Nakomi settled the matter with a roundhouse kick to Xhareen's head.

 

~~~~~

In the tunnels, Vector, Kayda and Broonmark met with General Hesker, who refused to vacate the area despite the danger now that the insurgents knew Imperial Guard were down here, too.

"Vector, Broonmark, what Xhareen said up there sure sounded like code. What did it mean?" Kayda asked.

"Reminding Broonmark of his clan duties means an assault is permissible," Vector explained. "But adding 'through diplomatic channels only' means only if it doesn't interfere with the mission."

"We'll find her, I promise that," Hesker said. "She had to know what she was doing, letting you all go free and not trying to take out as many of the combatants as she could."

"But how could she do that? Let herself be taken prisoner, knowing she's ..." Kayda started to choke up without finishing the obvious thought.

"Until we hear otherwise, we must try to track down the Green Jedi's location and assume Xhareen will take care of herself," Vector said. "Don't worry, Kayda. We do not hear her song going silent anytime soon."

"Not," Hesker added, "if I have anything to say about it."

 

**Day 15**

Xhareen woke up strapped with heavy, taut cortosis bands to a chair in a large, bright room that looked a little friendlier than the other corporate boardrooms she'd seen so far on this planet. The chair she was in was made of a heavy metal, some durasteel alloy she suspected, whereas the others in the room were cushioned and carved out of a heavy, dark wood from a tree – she couldn’t remember the name of it – that was said to have once covered this entire continent.

"My apologies, Sith," said a tall, dark-skinned human man, standing on the other side of a long conference table, carved of the same wood and draped in one of the fine Corellian textiles that graced most of the flat surfaces in every building. When her visor's image cleared, she could see it was Master Ramos.

"I have a name, you know. And I've been courteous up to this point, Master Ramos." She struggled briefly to test the bonds. The two bands around her chest gave only slightly and she noticed her feet had been left unrestrained. They were enough to suppress most, but not all, of her Force power, though.

For some reason, the Jedi must have thought them equal to the heavy handcuffs. They were clearly not.

"Indeed you have, Lord Xhareen, only threatening to kill us a handful of times."

"Restraint can be useful, especially during times of war," she replied. "And technically, it's Lord Wrath or Darth Tempest, but I'll let it slide if Lord Xhareen is easier for you."

"You Sith and your titles. I'm only called Master because that's the title I would have held if I hadn't defected from our Tython brethren after they failed to secure this, my home world, after the last war. We knew it would only be a matter of time before the Empire came calling for our resources. Not that the corporation fools would listen to us. Too many credits to be made.

"We tried to be something different, you know. Less obsessed with titles and power and hierarchies. More about justice and results. I guess that's impossible whenever sentient organic beings are involved. But our mandate is clear: Save Corellia by any means necessary."

"So why not just kill me? Unless you plan to talk me to death, why am I still here?" Xhareen demanded.

"Well, first, we need to know what you know about the Emperor's plans. And we won't kill you, at least not until your child is born. Then, we take it and train it as one of our own -- and then we can kill you with clean consciences."

"Clean, indeed,” she muttered. Then, more clearly: “I'm afraid I'm off the Emperor's speed call list these days, Ramos. But good to hear you have a plan to keep your souls safe."

Xhareen genuinely had no idea what he meant about the Emperor’s “plans,” though she suspected it had something to do with the contingent of Sith operating outside Darth Decimus's purview.

"Interesting," Ramos said. "I sense no lie in any of that. It doesn't change our need for retribution, however. Our members will be avenged."

"Vengeance, Jedi? I thought it was righteous retribution. Even we Sith understand the difference."

Ramos smashed his hand down on the table. “What does it matter to you? You’re going to be kept prisoner. Your child will be raised a Jedi and you and all of your Imperial friends will die because you will refuse to give up this pointless quest for domination.”

“I don’t want domination, Ramos. I just wanted to be left alone. To run to my safe estate on safe, gray Dromund Kaas and raise my child.

“It’s not entirely the Republic’s fault I’m here. In fact, it’s mostly my own. Partially the Sith’s. Let us not delude ourselves, though. Both of us harbor a terrible love of war.”

He turned away, and that’s when Xhareen made her move, mustering all the rage she could at the thought of her child – and Quinn’s child – being raised a slave to the Jedi, and not even a real Jedi at that. With a great burst, she broke out the back of the chair and slipped out through the bands. She’d snapped one of the chair legs, however, and it opened a gash down her right leg.

She grabbed the broken chair leg and hurtled across the table. She sunk the bar into his head just as a familiar presence leapt into view.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” came a booming voice from the body of a large Pureblood Sith, large even for one of them.

He radiated the very essence of the Dark Side. Not malevolent, more like the Dark Entity as she walked free of her bondage had. “You,” Xhareen said. “You’re the one I’ve been sensing.”

“And I you. I assume you are the new Wrath?”

“New Wrath?” She knew it was an old title, that in centuries past, when the Emperor was physically present among his people, he always had a Wrath to call upon. “Are you the old one? I never thought the Emperor had two living Wraths at any one time.”

“I’d hardly call it living. The Emperor must be getting soft, leaving you your senses.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. You just need to leave this place and stay away from our business.”

“What is that business? Why are there Sith here not working with the war effort?”

“I’m not one of them, although I would not expect you to believe me if I said I was working against their goals. They’re here and they’re a danger to all the galaxy. That’s all I’m going to say. Now here, take these and get out. You’re going to need them to fight past the other Jedi outside this room.”

He handed her light sabers to her. “Now, you go out the front. I’m leaving out the secret passage these fools felt necessary to install in a museum.”

“So that’s where we are?”

“Yes, the Republic Foundation Museum if that helps you get your bearings for your escape. The Green Jedi, or what’s left of them, have made this their fortress for the time being.”

He spoke with sincerity and conviction, but he was holding much back. “Who are you?” she demanded. “You know if you ever were truly Sith you must share your name with me. And why in the galaxy are you helping me?”

“My name is Lord Scourge. Any name I had before that is irrelevant. My lineage was dead two centuries ago. And I’m helping you, Xhareen Nah-garesh, because the Force says I must, though I am serious, if you interfere with what I and my colleagues are trying to do, I will be forced to kill you myself.”

In a sudden rush of hormones, adrenalin and Force energy, Xhareen could sense he had truthfully answered her questions. She wasn’t going to press him further on his mission, since she knew she had to get out of this place alive. And that she had to let that mission be carried out. Still, she’d see what Vette and Sith Intelligence had gathered.

She paused for a moment to let a wave of raging energy flow over her, stanching the blood running down her leg.

“Impressive,” Scourge said. “Vitiate chose well.”

“Go on, then, Scourge. I’m going to make my way out of here. But I tell you this, we will meet again.”

 “Oh, yes, Lord of the Tempest, we will meet again indeed.”

 

~~~~~


	42. I Many Times Thought Peace Had Come

It wasn’t easy, she had to admit, fighting her way through at least a dozen Green Jedi to escape the museum. But half of them were young and under-trained. Two were seriously wounded. None of them fought as hard as the council leaders she’d extinguished in her earlier fight.

Still, with the casualties they’d suffered fighting in the streets, and Xhareen’s efforts at eradicating their membership, the Green Jedi were now all but subdued. In the ensuing confusion after Xhareen had been taken to the museum, Imperial troops stormed the munitions factory, coming in from the front at great risk, but also flanking the remaining rebels by re-emerging through the breach holes in the Selonian tunnels.

Xhareen made her way back to the encampment in Labor Valley, where she was greeted with a joyous reunion by Kayda, Vector and Broonmark. Gen. Hesker was there, too.

“I wasn’t leaving this place until I knew you were OK, my lord,” he said with a deep, sincere bow.

She went to Kayda and nearly collapsed in her arms. “I seem to need some looking after, Dr. Quinn,” she said, as unconsciousness claimed her.

 

~~~~~

Kayda fixed her leg and did as thorough an exam as she could. She contacted Dr. Lokin and shared several test results. The older physician assured her that Xhareen and the baby were fine.

When they were done, Vette burst into the exam room.

“Hey, Quinn’s on the holo. I mean, the other Quinn. Captain ... I mean Major … you know, your baby daddy,” she said.

Vette tried to slip out but Xhareen called her back. “Vette, tell me the truth. Does he know I was captured?”

“Um, well, we were kinda worried about you and … well, yeah. I sent an email because their holos were down. Don’t hate me.”

Xhareen laughed. “Vette, I could never do that. Perhaps it’s for the best. He’ll see I’m OK and he’ll be fine.”

Except he wasn’t. He’d been wounded to the point he was wrapped in a medical binding shirt and had a cut on his forehead and on his ear. The look of sheer terror on his face tore at Xhareen’s heart.

Seems that in the midst of a fevered assault on regimental headquarters, his adjutant, the young corporal from Balmorra, had sacrificed himself saving Quinn from a suicide bomber. Quinn had still been hit with shrapnel in the chest and arm and woke up after surgery to be told Vette was on the holo with bad news.

“Darling, I’m so sorry about Darvas,” she said. It tore through her, that the young man who she remembered as still a boy was gone.

He nodded, then shook his head. “I can’t help but be tormented by the thought that I once threatened to shoot him for cowardice. In the end, his bravery saved my life.”

“Are you OK?” she asked, tenuously.

“I am fine. Shrapnel wounds is all. It’s you I’m more concerned about. How could you be so reckless, Xhareen?”

“I got hit on the head and cut on the leg, that’s all. I am also fine. Everyone’s fine. What did you expect?” she said.

“I didn’t expect you to let yourself be taken into custody like that. They could have killed you!”

“No, no. They knew I was pregnant. They weren’t going to harm me. They were going to hold me prisoner.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” he practically spat out.

“We’re here, my love. Alive. On the mend. The planet is won. I’m done fighting. We can be together within hours.”

Quinn shook his head. “I’m not cleared for flight yet and there’s still skirmishes here. Our colonel was killed in the assault, but we held them off with minimal casualties otherwise.”

“Which was probably due all to your brilliance, right?” she asked.

He broke down and smiled.

“You think you can get out of this with flattery, do you?” he said, tears forming in his eyes.

“I do indeed.”

A few tears, a little laughter and a reach of his uninjured arm in her direction, which she mirrored even though it was just an illusion of touch, and she thought maybe he’d be OK.

“I will see you in three days, wife. Behave yourself,” he said.

“Or what, husband? You’ll wear the smoking jacket again?”

“I will wear whatever you ask, or nothing at all,” he said.

“Mmmm, intriguing. Be well, Malavai. We need you. I need you.”

The holo went dark, and before she could spend another minute worrying, she was called into a briefing with Charnus.

 

~~~~~

**Day 16**

 

The eradication of the Green Jedi and the bombing of the rebel stronghold was all it took to quell any remaining resistance. Darbin Sull oversaw the arrest of nearly six dozen rebel leaders, in whose ranks he’d been hiding since his staged escape from Imperial custody. He’d managed to uncover the Green Jedi stronghold’s location all on his own, for what it was worth now.

However, his insistence on asking too many questions about the separate Sith incursion and the presence of the Jedi from Tython had aroused too many suspicions. He had been in their custody – he’d later insist he was moments away from execution – when Imperial Guard troops claimed the position and freed him. Of course, he’d also been injected with nano-transmitters, without his knowledge.

Not that he minded. He was about to get quite the handsome payoff for his inconvenience.

Jaesa updated Xhareen on a strange occurrence over Capitol Square **.** A stealthed ship had been discovered – a Sith vessel with Republic clearance codes. There had been evidence of fighting, but then the ship disappeared. There were no further reports of the mysterious Sith and with the capitulation of the remaining rebels and the corporate board members, the other Jedi contingent had left the system under a flag of truce.

Rathari did not return and Charnus would say nothing about him. Xhareen hoped it was important to keep him embedded, but that he would stay safe.

The city was preternaturally quiet. Xhareen slept for half the day, emerging from the officers’ billet in the headquarters building in Coronet City at Vette’s insistence. The sudden realization that Quinn’s injuries would have been fatal if not for Jillins’ sacrifice had worn her out more than she cared to admit. And she hated to think that the boy’s bright smile was gone from the galaxy – and from the Quinn family.

Kayda cried when she heard the news. “He should have never gone to war, Xhareen. Uncle Drayden was trying to get him stationed on a ship off the front lines. But he insisted on staying at Malavai’s side.”

She would have to speak more with Kayda about it before she saw Malavai again. She knew that his fears couldn’t simply be assuaged with a joke and a dirty promise. Though she’d give anything to just be in his arms right now.

“Um, Xhareen … you need to get moving,” Vette said, interrupting her somber ruminations. “It’s Charnus. Darth Scary Boss wants to talk to you.”

At least that would be a distraction.

She took a quick turn in the sonic fresher and put on clean clothing. Vette said Toovee had been busy on the ship, using her new measurements and working overtime with the fabrication droids to make her new clothes that would fit.

When they’d determined she was presentable, Jaesa joined her for the meeting. Xhareen was glad for the company, and Jaesa had been the one to aid the Selonians and track Darbin Sull. She deserved credit, although Xhareen worried there might be some blame to be spread around, too.

Charnus was, to her great surprise, pleased.

“It wasn’t an orthodox assault, but you saved the day, Lord Wrath,” he said with unusual deference. “Darth Decimus would speak with you now.”

The holo in the office Charnus had claimed since leaving his ship blipped and flashed and Decimus appeared.

“You are to be congratulated, Wrath,” he said. “You have won the day, and the planet for the Empire.”

“It was my duty, Darth Decimus. And I couldn’t have done it without my team, and without the assistance from General Hesker and the Selonians. I would see their people treated well by ours.”

“Diplomacy is not my domain, so I will leave that to others. I will be there at the headquarters in an hour. I’m going to broadcast a short address for the residents of Coronet City tonight. We have a victory rally set for Victors’ Square tomorrow morning to be shown planetwide.”

“Are we claiming it’s all over then? I heard there’s still fighting on the northern continent.”

“Just some trivial acts of civil disobedience. The uncouth rubes of the north are harder to reach, but easier brought to heel. They are of no consequence. The planet is ours.”

“So be it then,” she said.

“You are well enough for the rally, I take it? I heard you were injured in a rather bold effort to save your last mission.”

“I am fully recovered. I was more tired than anything.”

Decimus nodded. “To be expected for your condition, I gather? Yes, I believe you’re past the point where you can hide it from any competent Force user.”

“Which is why my time in your service is done, Darth Decimus. I must think of my child now.”

“You have done enough for the Empire, Wrath. More than a company of Sith. Taking out Baras, and now subduing Corellia. It would be nice to think this war will be over before your child is born, but I would not spend any of my money betting on it.”

Nor would I, she thought. She didn’t want to think that far into the future, however. Just about re-uniting with Malavai and getting everyone she cared about back to the safety of Dromund Kaas.

“One last thing: I will be awarding you a medal for your heroism at the ceremony tomorrow, Wrath. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said with a short, respectful nod of the head.

“Then we are done. Until tomorrow,” he said as he ended the transmission.

 

~~~~~

The sun rose the next morning, hot and brilliant. Workers and Imperial troops worked through the night to clear out the most obvious debris and signs of the recent conflict in the newly named Imperial Victors’ Square, where Darth Decimus himself would speak at the celebration rally.

Thousands gathered in the vicinity hours ahead of the event, mostly huddling under the awnings to escape the rapidly gathering heat.

A balcony four stories above the square, in one of Czerka’s main administrative buildings that had been spared from the bombings on both sides, served as the stage. It was long and broad and able to be well-covered by both holocams and Imperial snipers.

The holofeed would be broadcast live across the planet, then on a slight delay to the rest of the Empire. Vette heard talk of plans to hijack signals on key Republic worlds for a forced transmission, but she wisely ignored it.

Shortly before the ceremony began, the square was nearly full. More than half of them were Imperial troops, but still, tens of thousands of Corellians had turned out for the event. VIP seats with the best sightlines to the stage – and ringed with Imperial Guards in their scarlet finest – were full of gaily dressed corporate dignitaries. The planetary councilors would share the stage with their new Imperial leaders.

Darth Decimus appeared right on time, decked in his full Sith armor, including a face-framing helmet that left the casual observer unable to tell where its technology enhancements ended and his facial cybernetics began. His gray pallored skin, offset by brilliant red tattoos that looked like blades had carved lines into his face, matched his armor, probably on purpose.

“Is this the best we can put forward for the Corellian people after so many months of war?” Xhareen thought as she walked across to the balcony’s edge. Decimus was a strong warrior, of that she had no doubt. But he was no politician. Could Darbin Sull really hold things together? Could he even fathom anything beyond his own desires?

Xhareen was still exhausted from her captivity, and from having to face Quinn about it. She couldn’t shake how terror-stricken he’d looked. She understood why Vette contacted him, but wished he could have been left out of the loop this one time.

Decimus took center stage. Xhareen stood next to Hesker on his right. She felt small next to these two giant figures with their booming voices.

“People of Corellia, citizens of the Empire. Today marks a new beginning,” Decimus began, his arms outstretched in welcome. Maybe, Xhareen considered, she was too harsh in assessing his lack of political skills.

“The Green Jedi have given up their campaign of terror against your people and your corporate institutions. The battle for Corellia is over!” Decimus declared. “May you all know a new era of prosperity and order. May you be free of the machinations and corruption that follow the Republic and its minions everywhere.”

The crowd began to cheer wildly, surprisingly unprompted, civilian and military alike.

Xhareen almost didn’t realize Decimus had started talking about her. “Our champion stands before us, fresh from battle,” he said, pointing at her. She would have missed it if Hesker hadn’t given her a slight, but certainly friendly, nudge of his elbow. “She deserves our deepest respect.”

Decimus gestured, and Xhareen approached him. Someone had placed a small box right in front of where Decimus faced as he turned toward her, so she stepped up on it. She could see into his blazing red eyes – he was equally exhausted, probably just as full of doubt despite his show of Sith bluster.

“Lord Wrath, Darth Tempest. You are the embodiment of our Emperor’s power and will. No existing reward fits your triumph. So I bestow, for the first time in galactic history, our newest and highest honor: the Medal of Imperial Glory.”

Xhareen bent her head down, and Decimus draped a shining mithril medal dangling from a purple silken ribbon around her neck.

“Thank you, Darth Decimus. I’m proud to have freed Corellia from the Republic’s tyranny,” she said, using the line Darth Charnus had urged her to use.

“As you should be, Wrath. Your actions have altered the course of the galaxy and you deserve recognition,” Decimus said.

A flood of energy washed over her from the cheering in the crowd below. She smiled and bowed her head toward them. They cheered again for several moments until Darth Decimus raised his arms and asked for quiet.

“There is another hero in this story, Corellia’s esteemed councilor. For fighting to broker peace and risking your own life to bring order, I officially name Darbin Sull as prime minister of Corellia.”

A few light applause broke out, mostly from the assembled politicians on the stage and the VIP section right below.

“He will oversee the planet’s future with minimal Imperial oversight,” Decimus said. That prompted a heartier round of applause and a few cheers from the crowd.

Sull moved up to center stage, next to Decimus on his left-hand side.

“Thank you, Darth Decimus, for those kind and important words. Thank you for the opportunity to serve the Empire and all of Corellia’s people.”

Still more applause broke out. So maybe Sull did know how to work a crowd after all.

“And thank you to the Hero of Corellia,” he said, pointing at Xhareen, “for ending the rebellion. You have saved countless lives.”

Xhareen nodded. “We make a good team, Darbin. No one’s better suited to lead this planet.”

Xhareen wasn’t even sure where that line came from. But Decimus shot her an approving glance.

Sull opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by one of the councilors on the stage. “Sull, you’re a fool! I will never bow to these Imperial puppets,” the man shouted, his arm raised in defiance. “Corellians never give in!”

Xhareen was off the box and within striking distance when two Imperial Guards grabbed him by his arms.

“Wait,” she commanded. The guards stopped.

“Jalta!” Sull yelled, but Xhareen raised her hand and urged him to be still.

“Normally, such rebellion would be viewed as treason, and get you killed,” she said. “But Corellia’s seen enough bloodshed. Remove him, but do not harm him. The Corellian people need to rebuild. Nobody needs a martyr.”

The guards carted him off the stage. The crowd had fallen silent.

Xhareen turned toward them, and Decimus leaned over and touched her on the shoulder. He was nodding. She knew what he was asking of her.

“People of Corellia,” she began. “The Empire grows stronger every day, while the Republic wastes into oblivion. Even their drudges, the Jedi, must sacrifice everything to serve while gaining nothing. Soon, they will fade into obscurity, along with their Republic masters. You don’t have to share their fate.

“Go back to your homes and your families. Gather your strength and rebuild, secure in the knowledge that the Empire will protect you. It is time you take your rightful place by our side and watch the rest of the galaxy follow.”

Decimus came and raised her arm in victory. Everyone left on the stage, except for the Imperial Guards, came forward and linked hands, arms raised in triumph. “I officially declare Corellia a member of the Empire,” Decimus said, sealing the deal.

“Long live the Empire! Long live the Hero of Corellia!” someone in the crowd shouted. The refrain was repeated, and quickly became a chant that rang in her ears long after she left the stage and headed back for the Imperial base.


	43. Things Fall Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for a disturbing attack and violence

**Day 17**

The next day passed without incident. Republic troops, hidden in cargo transports mostly, left the planet. Decimus met with Czerka and other corporate officials to discuss rebuilding schedules and when they could return to production. Despite the devastation in and around Coronet City, many facilities were at least capable of returning to some semblance of production right away.

The people were growing restless, however. They’d been subject to three months of steady warfare all around them. Xhareen mentioned to Charnus that it might be a good idea to encourage and empower them to help clean up their own neighborhoods – Charnus repeated the idea to Decimus and presented it as his own. Xhareen wasn’t going to worry about that. She had better news.

Quinn called and said he would be in Coronet City, late afternoon the next day.

He looked a little better than he had several days prior, but she could still see the grief on his face. Jillins’ body was on its way back to the family on Dromund Kaas. Quinn’s mother and sister Rissa would represent them at the funeral.

He was fine as long as he was talking about preparations and plans. Xhareen knew it would take a little more love and attention for him to divest himself of his sadness, though. She vowed to help him do that in whatever way possible.

~~~~~

**Day 18**

Xhareen woke up later than she had planned, but when she did, it was to a nearly empty building.

“We’re OK, or I would have gotten you up sooner,” Jaesa said. “But fighting and rioting have broken out on the west side. There are two particularly nasty battles going on, one near the spaceport and the other near a biochemical lab on the western border.”

“The spaceport? How in the galaxy could the rebels be deluded into thinking they could re-take the spaceport?” Xhareen asked, fully awake now.

“It’s some splinter group. Anti-tech radicals who’ve been in hiding until now,” Jaesa replied.

“How convenient. But perhaps we should consider getting the Covenant to safety. We can always take a shuttle later. Malavai won’t be here for hours, if he can get in at all.”

Vette appeared, dutifully attired in her flight suit. “I was thinking you might want the ship outta here. Vector and I can do it.”

Vector was in his battle gear. “We will keep Miss Vette safe. Our route to the far hangar where your ship is still appears safe.”

Seems everybody was already up to speed before she even got out of bed. But she was anxious about Malavai getting here safely and she wasn’t going to quibble about who gave what orders. What her people had decided was what she would have done anyway.

“OK, just be careful. We’ve come too far, through too much, to lose anyone now,” she said. “You should take Kayda with you. Come to think of it, where is she?”

Xhareen noticed everyone suddenly looking at the ground.

“She, um, she went out with the troops after the first round of casualty reports came in. The rebels hit the Imperial medical corps pretty hard right before the end,” Vette said.

“Dammit,” Xhareen said. “I guess I can’t blame her, though. Quinns and their duty, after all.”

“Yeah, she’ll be OK, don’t worry. She said she’d be back once they could transport the wounded back here.”  
“And I’ve already arranged shuttle transport to the Indomitable for those who are badly wounded,” Jaesa added. She’d really come far these past few weeks, Xhareen mused.

“I could send Broonmark as escort,” Xhareen said. But she turned when the Talz turned up right behind her, shaking his enormous, shaggy head.

“I cannot leave my Clan,” he declared, crossing his arms.

“We will be on guard, Xhareen,” Vector said. “There are back routes through buildings the Imperial troops still hold.”

In the end, there wasn’t much she could say. Her people knew her mind, and they were, for all the right reasons, making the best decisions.

“Alright, just go now and be safe. Holo in the minute you’re clear of anti-aircraft weapons.”

The command center fell quiet soon enough. All the military personnel had been called out to the streets. Only a handful of civilian analysts and a few CorSec police remained.

Xhareen declared she would die of hunger if she didn’t eat, so she went to the cafeteria area that had been repurposed as a mess hall. She saw one of the kitchen staffers kneeling in front of a small child, who was disheveled and crying.

“My lord,” the woman said as she stood up.

“What’s going on?” Xhareen asked.

The boy ran over to Xhareen and grabbed her leg. “Please, miss! My mother is hurt and she can’t get out.”

Between Xhareen and the kitchen attendant, they got from the boy that his mother was a teacher and that she and two other teachers had tried to clear the entrance in their bombed-out school building. The war was over, they wanted to get things back to normal, it seemed.

But a wall had collapsed and they were trapped. She had called to her son, who’d been told to wait outside, to run for help.

“I knew the Empire was going to make us safe, so I came here, Miss,” he said.

“How far did you come?” she asked.

“Not far,” was all he could say.

“My lord, apologies, but I think he means a CorSec employee’s school about three blocks east of here. Not far at all,” the attendant said.

Jaesa and Broonmark, hearing the boy’s cries, had come into the mess hall.

Jaesa motioned for Xhareen to come over. “It could be a trick,” she warned.

“If it is, it’s probably a trap for you. There’s still a bounty on your head, Jaesa. Do you sense any deceit in the boy?”

Jaesa bowed her head and a glimmer of yellow light circled around her. “No, but I don’t sense much about children. Their paths are so open, and there’s no one here to serve as a confirmation.”

“I can go.”

Jaesa grabbed her arm. “No, Xhareen. You promised you’d stay away from the fighting.”

“Is that why you didn’t wake me when the attacks started?”

Jaesa said nothing.

“I thought as much. But this isn’t fighting. I’m going to see if I can help move fallen duracrete and if not, I’ll assess the situation and as soon as there are able-bodied troops back here, I’ll send them instead. But I can’t leave them to die, Jaesa. I’m the Hero of Corellia. How bad would it look if I didn’t care about some desperate school teachers and a dirty, crying child?”

Jaesa threw up her hands in exasperation. “I guess I can’t say anything to talk you out of it, can I? Will you at least take Broonmark?”

Xhareen punched her big, furry bodyguard on the arm. “I would never think of leaving home without him!”

~~~~~  
It only took them a few minutes on foot to get to the location. She’d ordered the boy to stay put in the kitchen and to get some food and drink. She wish she’d gotten something before she left but she had forgotten all about her empty stomach when she saw him. Something about him triggered her maternal instincts, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to rest again if she hadn’t at least tried to help him get back with his own mother.

The building was indeed a school house, similar in construction to the one on CEC property she’d visited days ago. Whoever had been here, they seem to have at least gotten the entranceway cleared before tragedy struck, since Xhareen and Broonmark were able to enter the facility with ease.

They called out, but got no response. All was quiet, so she and Broonmark carefully rounded the corner past the wall that split the lobby into two hallways, like so many buildings on the planet.

Xhareen called out “Hello” again. This time, there was an answer.

“Hello, Sith scum.”

It was the Miralukan Green Jedi she’d met in the rebel facility.

“What do you want, Jedi? I’m here to help injured school teachers.”

He laughed and then spat on the ground. “Don’t lie, Sith. You came as all Sith do. To murder and befoul.”

He hadn’t gone for a weapon, so Xhareen didn’t go for hers yet, either. She had no illusions she’d have to fight her way out of this, but she had a sickening sense the full plot had yet to be revealed.

“So you are better? Using a child to lure me here. An ambush? A coward’s ploy?”

Just then, she heard rustling behind a pile of debris. Another Green Jedi, a young woman who couldn’t have been out of her teens yet, appeared.

“We’re here for you and the traitors you harbor. I see you only brought one of them, a filthy Talz.”

Broonmark howled at her remark, but Xhareen stayed him with her outstretched arm.

The young Jedi used the momentary distraction to leap at Xhareen. By the time she landed, however, Xhareen and Broonmark were weapons hot and they quickly dispatched with her.

Xhareen turned and shouted with disgust at the Miralukan. She’d only had time to ignite and use her mainhand weapon, which she now stilled.

Facing an angry Sith and an even angrier Talz, the Miralukan laid down his light saber and raised his hands. Broonmark dragged the body of the dead girl out of the way.

“How could you let her do that? How are you in any way able to judge me?” Xhareen shouted.

The Miralukan just smiled, which unsettled her.

“I’m not really here for you, Sith. I’m here to rid the galaxy of that filth you’re carrying inside you. Have you asked yourself why the child hasn’t quickened yet? Perhaps it is too ashamed of itself and its polluted bloodline. Believe me, I’m doing us all a kindness.”

And in the frozen moment before she could shout “No!” and throw her lightsaber at him, he put his hands together. She thought only of the child inside her, prayed it was protected in the bubble of her womb and willed the Force to do the same to her. But she was hit with three bursts of the Force from the Jedi’s hands before her prayer was complete.

She felt herself going backward into a half-standing duracrete wall. Felt the air leave her lungs as she hit it. This must have been how Quinn felt when she did it to him.

I’m so sorry, Malavai. So sorry.

The Jedi’s face had turned mottled brown, and his eyes glowed red. Like Nomen Karr after Xhareen had lured the evil out of him, too.

Then a white cloud appeared behind him, and he exploded.

First his arms flew off his body, one after the other. Then his head bent to the left and it flew out of her narrowing field of vision. Then his body turned 90 degrees, and his legs separated as a set from his trunk.

Then the white cloud screamed and Xhareen tried to shout “Broonmark” before the darkness claimed her.


	44. Bad Moon Rising

It was the longest 30 minutes of Malavai Quinn’s life.

His shuttle had been re-routed from the spaceport to a corporate landing pad near Imperial headquarters. “There was some sort of civil unrest, sir,” the pilot told him. “It’s been contained, but command wants to keep the spaceport on lockdown a little longer.”

It was close enough to walk rather than hire a taxi, so Quinn set out, carrying his own small travel bag. He’d packed lightly, both because he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to stay away from his battalion and because he didn’t want to lug a heavy bag with just one good arm.

As he got closer to the sprawling complex that had once been the Trade Tariff Service offices, he saw troops returning in small bands. Several hundred of them must have been deployed to whatever the “civil unrest” might have been.

He searched, but he saw no trace of Xhareen or the rest of the crew. There’s a relief, he thought. She’d made good on her word, and had stayed in the heavily guarded and fortified building since the war had been declared over. The thought of some after-action event harming her had been tormenting him for three days.

He couldn’t holo her, since ground transmissions were blocked, whether by the insurgents or command, Quinn didn’t know. His shrapnel wounds were starting to itch and his injured arm was aching. His good arm, too. He’d been in such a hurry to leave the northern continent, he realized he had forgotten to take his morning stim.

He was within sight of the building’s heavily guarded and reinforced entrance when he saw a group of soldiers, hugging and weeping.

“I heard she’s dead. The Hero of Corellia is dead,” Quinn heard one of them say.

He ran toward the nearest group and grabbed a sobbing lieutenant.

“Where is she? The Wrath?” he said, shaking the young man more than he meant to.

“Dunno, she was shuttled out right as I got back, sir.”

Quinn patted him on the arm and mumbled an apology. He ran back to the landing pad he’d just come from.

The shuttle he’d come in on was gone. A pilot was standing by the control panel. Quinn asked if she knew anything about the Hero and what had happened.

“Chatter says she was airlifted to the command ship, sir,” she said.

“I must get there as soon as possible,” Quinn demanded.

“There’s a 30-minute wait, I’m afraid, sir,” she told him.

“Captain, can you find out any information? The Hero, the Sith … she’s my wife. She’s carrying our child and I … I was on my way to meet her and get her home to Dromund Kaas and …”

Quinn began to shake, and the pilot guided him to a nearby bench.

“Surface comms are down in the area, but I can tap into the flight channels, Major …”

“Quinn,” he whispered. “Malavai Quinn.”

Hours went by, or so he thought. The captain came back with a bit of news.

“She’s on the Indomitable, confirmed. A message was left, for you actually, by a medic also named Quinn, to meet her on board. That’s all I could get before I had to get off the airwaves, I’m afraid.”

“Thank you, Captain,” he said, his voice hoarse and ragged. “I need to get to her.”

“I’ll commandeer the next spacebound shuttle I can and take you myself, sir,” she said.

Quinn might have said thank you before leaning his head into his hands and trying to remember the words to Xhareen’s lullaby.

~~~~~

As soon as the shuttle cleared the planet’s atmosphere, Quinn’s personal holo chimed. It was Jaesa.

“Jaesa! What happened? How’s Xhareen? How…”

“Quinn, all I know is she isn’t dead. She’s in surgery.”

“Why did she go out to the fighting? She promised she wouldn’t!”

“Listen, she didn’t. It was something else, but I can’t talk about it over comm channels. I’ll tell you all I know when you get here. Meet me at … at these coordinates I’m sending. I have no idea where I am on this ship.”

“Where’s everyone else? Are they OK?”

“Vette and Vector were bringing the Covenant here to dock. They’ve just been cleared and are making their way to this medsection. Broonmark is the one who brought Xhareen in. He’s by the operating suite, threatening anyone who comes within a meter of him. Kayda’s assisting in the surgery along with Dr. Lokin. Just get here and we’ll figure it all out, OK?”

“Sure. Yes. Thank you, Jaesa. Quinn out.”

He dropped the holocomm as soon as the call went out.

~~~~~  
Fortunately, the shuttle bay where he was dropped off was the closest one to the medical section where Jaesa had directed him. There were three medsections on a dreadnaught this large, so Quinn decided to accept this as a mercy from the Maker.

Jaesa was waiting for him. She took him to a private waiting area and told him what had happened: the boy, the teachers, the fake story that turned into an ambush, Broonmark returning to HQ, covered in blood, carrying Xhareen and screaming.

“Why did she go, Jaesa? She said she wasn’t going to fight. She didn’t go out with the rest of the troops, why did she break her promise?”

“All I can say is she believed the little boy. She thought if anything was fishy, it was an attempt to get at me.”

“Where is this child? Who sent him? We need to find out, Jaesa.” He was starting to get frantic.

“He disappeared. So did the kitchen staffer he was talking to.”

He began to stammer, unsure of what to say next, when Kayda entered the room. She was wearing a surgical cap and slippers, along with a set of too-short clinical scrubs.

“Mal! Thank the stars you are here!” she said, running to him.

He accepted her hug but he pulled away quickly and demanded, “How is she?”

“Mal, she’s just gotten through the first surgery. Dr. Lokin is with her. Mother is consulting, via holo. There’s at least three other specialists working on a team to save her. I helped all I could. I figured it was best if I got out of their way and waited for you. Plus, I need something from you.”

“The baby. They saved the baby, yes?”

Kayda flushed and grabbed hold of his hands. “Mal, I’m so sorry. The Jedi seemed to know she was pregnant and attacked her repeatedly in the abdomen. They couldn’t save the baby.”

Quinn shut his eyes and felt himself being sucked through the bulkhead on the Yaroe Star. If he had died, as he deserved, he never would have known he had a child. He wouldn’t be here, now, feeling the life get sucked out of him all over again.

He heard a hissing sound. Was he wearing an EVA suit? Was it leaking? Was he going to die alone in the cold vacuum of space? Without his wife? Without his child? Why did it sound like a rushing tram through a tunnel in his head right now?

“She’s going to be OK. They’re talking about stem cell repair. She’ll be back to her old self in no time.”

Her old childless self? Her old self, before Balmorra? Her old self, chasing ex-lovers to find some outlet for her passion? Her old self, wondering if he, Malavai Quinn, would ever admit to his feelings?

“Why was she fighting, Kayda? She promised she was done when the planet was won.”

“I wasn’t there, Mal. I went out with the troops. She was sleeping and no one even thought to wake her up when the call came about a riot near a biolab.”

Kayda looked desperately at Jaesa.

“She knew there was fighting and she stayed in the compound, like I told you,” Jaesa said. “None of us thought there was anything wrong with the little boy’s story.”

“Why did she go? Why?” he asked of no one in particular.

“Hey, Mal, that’s her job,” Kayda said, hugging him again.

“Yes, of course it is,” he spat.

Kayda pulled back and pushed him in the chest. “Hey! Don’t you start complaining about someone else’s duty, little Imperial zealot brother.”

He ignored the shove and wiped his face with the cloth in his pocket and blew his nose. “Just answer me: Where I am to wait until I can see her, Kayda? And you said you needed something. What was it?”

“She’s out of surgery and recovering for a brief time in a kolto tank.” She grabbed her datapad. “I need you to sign consent for the stem cell cloning. As next of kin.”

He yanked the pad from her and input his signature, said nothing, and handed it back to her.

“Do you have any questions about the procedure?” Kayda had half expected him to ask to review all the recent literature from the medical journals on it.

“No.”

“OK. Well, Dr. Lokin says she should be fine here, he doesn’t see any need to transfer her to the Phantom’s tank. So that’s good news at least.”

“How long until she’s awake?”

“Five or six hours, Mal. You should come with me and get some rest.”

“I’ll be fine here.” He went to a bank of chairs away from Jaesa and Kayda. He’d barely sat down when Vette burst through the doors, out of breath and wanting to know how Xhareen was doing. Vector came in a minute or so later.

Kayda explained the situation to them. Vette then noticed Quinn and went to sit next to him. No matter what she said, he answered only in small words if at all. When she asked, tearfully, if he was OK, all he would say was “I don’t know,” and buried his face in his hands.

Kayda forwarded the data and said she was going to go clean up.

Vette and Jaesa sat with Quinn for more than an hour in silence. Then Jaesa got up to pace, and Vette went to curl up in a larger single chair across the room.

Kayda came back after that.

“OK, Mal, I’ve arranged rooms for us on the ship. Come get cleaned up and rest and get something to eat.”

“I don’t want to leave, Kayda.”

“She’ll be OK. I’m sure she would prefer you to be comfortable and get something to eat. You know she wouldn’t turn down food …”

“I said I was fine, Kayda. I just want to sit here.” He reburied his face in his hands. “And I certainly don’t want to eat.”

“Hey, Kayda,” Vette said. “I’m hungry. Let me go with you.”

Once they rounded the nearest corner, Vette stopped in the corridor. “Is this how he gets when ... ?”

“When our father died, he came home on leave, shut himself in Father’s study and took care of everything Mother couldn’t. Barely said a dozen words, I bet. Stood at attention the whole funeral service, most of it anyway. Then he left. And it wasn’t long after that he got court-martialed. He only talked to Mother once and that didn’t go well at all.”

“So now I know what shuts him down,” Vette said. “Grief. Loss.”

“Yeah. This has got to be the worst for him, Vette. I won’t lie, I’m afraid for him.”

“Stars. They’ve been through so much already.”

Vette went to sit next to Quinn again when Broonmark entered the waiting area. He knelt before Quinn, still covered in dried blood, and laid his vibrosword at Quinn’s feet.

“I failed my Sith. It is your duty to take my life, Sithmate. I beg of you.”

Quinn leaned over and whispered something into Broonmark’s shaggy head where they all had long assumed ears would be. Then he patted the white giant on his shoulder.

Broonmark stood up and Vette and Jaesa came over to him.

“Guys, let’s go and … take him,” Kayda said, holding up a keycard. “It’s for a VIP cabin where we can stay if we need to. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

She glared at her brother. “I know you don’t want to leave, but do let us know if and when she can take visitors. Please?”

He nodded and grumbled.

Kayda returned alone about an hour later. Malavai was asleep in the big chair. He had removed his uniform coat and laid it neatly across another chair he had pulled over next to him.

She grabbed a datapad and looked for something to read. He needed the sleep; maybe he’d wake up in a better mood and Xhareen would be able to see him.

~~~~~~  
Malavai stood impassive, his hands behind his back, on the deck of the room he had said held the transponder they needed to enter Corellian space. Yaroe Star, the ship was named. Class A starship. He knew them well. At least he hadn’t lied about that.

She stood in front of him, her face fallen. “I thought our love was real … “

And there it was. She was vulnerable now. How small she looked to him in that moment. He could take his blaster, shoot her through her big heart and be done with it.

He had anticipated this. She always left herself vulnerable to him. He had warned her countless times that taking their relationship beyond a professional one would be dangerous. Then she’d reach over and touch his hand, or stroke his hair, reassuring him that passion always won the day.

But he wasn’t going to shoot her. He had to let this drama, this _grand guignol_ , play itself out.

She was, quite likely, in the right, that passion always won the day. His passion. He knew at this moment that he loved her, he would always love her, as much as he loved the Empire. As much as he loved his career. As much as he loved his ambitions.

For they were all one and the same, embodied in her. He loved the woman, no doubt, and he loved the idea of her as well. But the two had become mutually exclusive. And his plan must proceed as he had conceived. There was only one outcome, and that was that she must prevail. Perhaps her loathing of him would propel her just enough to beat Baras at his own game.

One thing was certain: Baras had not seen this coming. Baras, thinking himself the grandmaster, always underestimated his pawns.

And he had clearly underestimated his Queen.

So had Quinn, for in the next moment, he found himself flying toward the bulkhead of the transponder room. The multiple layers of durasteel and the best alloys the Empire had to offer buckled with the force he hit them with. A hole opened, and he felt himself sucked into the cold, black vacuum of space.

Just as well. If she survived the decompression of the compartment, which he was confident she would, she just might win it all.

~~~~~  
“Mal! Wake up!”

Kayda grabbed her brother’s shoulders as he jolted awake.

“Mal, are you OK? You were practically screaming in your sleep.”

“I’m fine. How long? How long was I asleep?”

“Three hours, almost four. She’s out of the second surgery now.”

“Second … for what?”

“What do you mean? I told you. They’re regenerating the internal organs damaged by the attack. The stem cells were prepped and implanted. You authorized it as her next of kin.”

He was nearly aware of where he was when he let it slip out. “I forgot.”

“Bantha crap,” Kayda said. “You never forget anything.”

Hmmm. If only his sister had been inside his last dream. “I only seem to be remembering things best left forgotten, Kay.”

He hadn’t called her that in years.

“You must be worn out, brother, if you’re calling me Kay again.”

He started to sniffle. His lip trembled. “I never wanted to stay away for so long.”

Her eyes got wet, too. “I know little brother, I know. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Rissa and I are here for you. Mum’s here for you.”

“I don’t deserve any of this.”

“Balls, Mal. We love you. Xhareen loves you. She’s fighting for her life for you in there.”

Except she shouldn’t even be here, he thought.

He let the dark thoughts roll over him as Kayda sat down and put her arm around him. She smelled of food. She might have been trying to get him to eat something but he knew if he even tried, he wouldn’t keep it down.

“Kayda, in all the confusion this morning I forgot my stims at the base.” He punched some keys on his datapad and sent a file to hers.

“You want me to get this for you?”

“Yes, if you could, please,” he said.

“It may take a while. I’ll need to get authorization.”

“I will be fine. I will contact you if anything comes up.”

Kayda left him alone. He had a blissful few moments of relief from being stared at by people he knew cared for him, people he cared for.

But he could not tolerate their caring right now. It was like being covered in a hot blanket when your skin is burned by the sun and then set on fire.

Right as he thought he’d chased that sensation away, an attendant came into the waiting room.

“Sir, you are the Sith’s husband, correct? If so, she is awake and asking for you. She’s in the room at the end of this hallway, on the left.” She waited for him to acknowledge, and then she left.

It’s time, he thought. I must do what must be done.


	45. And Still We Drown, We Drown

Quinn felt it before he saw it, the end of the only relationship that ever mattered to him. He felt the air electrify as he tried, as gently as he could, to tell his only love that he could not continue as her husband or lover or mate. He felt as though the tiles on the floor would lift him up in the seconds before they became projectiles that ripped through his flesh. He felt like he was a magnet and everything in the room made of machine-sharpened metal.

She was awake when he entered her room from a back door, but only just. She reached out for him, whispered his name.

“My lord,” he began, his head bowed under the weight of shame and disgust he felt. Although it was her action – breaking her promise – that brought him to this place, it was his own unfitness for her presence that would drag these words from his mouth.

“Xhareen, I came here to say something neither of us wants to hear. But it must be said.”

She knew at that point. She knew. He knew every movement of every muscle in her face and how that translated into every mood and feeling she had. Someone had removed her metal visor, but had given her a gauze wrap to cover the blank skin that covered her eyeless upper face.

She stifled a sob. He knew if he looked at her, she would reach out and pull him into the bed next to her and hold him until the pain went away, both of their pain went away, the kind of pain that stims and kolto can’t relieve. And he would let her.

And something even worse would happen next time. He couldn’t do that to her, and he couldn’t do that to himself. If he’d learned anything in this past year, it was that he did have some worth to the Empire, even if it wasn’t enough for her.

“What are you trying to say, Malavai?”

“I’m trying to say it’s over. That I still love you, but this incident has made it clear that your role as the Emperor’s Wrath is where you are most suited, not as the wife of a mere Imperial officer.” He never raised his head as he spoke.

She gasped, so hard that she started to cough. Her lungs sounded like they were still wet with kolto. “Do you blame me for our child’s death?”

“I … No. I know you thought you were helping people. But you still broke your promise to me. You promised you’d stay safe. The baby’s death lies solely on that Jedi’s head.”

“Helping is what we both do. Duty. Service to the Empire. How could I have anticipated an ambush? I thought I was helping teachers caught in the rubble.”

“Jaesa told me you didn’t want her to accompany you since you thought it might be an ambush for her. So the thought clearly crossed your mind. But that’s not my point, Xhareen.”

Finally, he lifted his tired, pained face to look at her. She had an ashen pallor and her hair was undone, flat and not falling into waves as it did at night in his arms.

That’s when he felt it first, the stirring of the air.

She said nothing, though her lower lip trembled.

“I’m not blaming you. You’re just reckless. You’ve always been that way. Charging into battle, sabers blazing. The Empire is better for it, no doubt. But I am not,” he said. He meant to be comforting and to be truthful but even he knew one was going to be sacrificed for the other.

She was starting to regain her composure. “Are you seriously suggesting ‘It’s not you, it’s me?’” She had the mockery of his voice down to an art. Part of her musical gift, he guessed.

“No, Xhareen. I am too devastated to be glib. I’ve had six hours of sheer torture to consider this, as well as the separation before that.”

She had reassured him several times that she sent him off her ship, dismissed him as her captain, to protect him from Baras. He could see it now, as though surrounded by bright lights, that it had been much more than that.

“Were you already thinking about dumping me?” she asked.

He nearly gave in. He nearly asked for forgiveness. He nearly said I’m sorry, this is all just a stim-deprived, sleep-deprived, grief-doused episode.

But he could not give in, not now. If anyone was to blame for this relationship failing, it was him. He betrayed her and no one should have ever forgiven him for that.

“No, I wanted us to be together and when you told me you were pregnant, I wanted nothing more than to be a family. But in all the moments in between, I would think about what I did to you on that ship. And I can’t shake it.”

She tried to get up from the bed, but she was tethered by a medical drip and a kolto line. She sat back. She was still going to fight, but he could tell she was close to being defeated. A light red glow started to envelope her form.

“I forgave you, Malavai. I still do. I always will.”

“But for a brief moment, you wanted to kill me.”

She stumbled on a quick reply. Then she lowered her head, as though she could ever feel the shame he did, and said softly, “Because that’s what you wanted.”

He got over that weakness, that madness of self-elimination. He forgot about it, even, when he learned he was going to be a father.

“Every time I try to sort through the mess, I keep uncovering my doubts. That cannot be a good sign.”

“Quinn,” her voice was sharper now, more under her control. “You doubt that I love you?”

“I doubt that you should.”

“Irrelevant,” she said with a violent shake of her head. “I do love you. End of story.”

“No, my lord. The story ends here. I am saying goodbye.”

As he turned for the door, the air turned as electric as a stormy day in the jungles past Kaas City.

“Malavai, I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave me!” She sounded desperate. Desperate and small. He knew he did nothing but sap her strength and weaken her will.

He said no more. He just turned to leave. She screamed his name as he left the room. He turned to look back, knowing you should never look back.

“Goodbye, my love,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you need.”

And at that moment, a portable suture unit hit the door where his head had been three seconds earlier.

Everything not bolted down in the room was swirling about with her rage, just as it had that day so long ago when she grieved the loss of her family and Vette’s mother. The same rage that surrounded his throat and tossed him into the bulkhead of the Yaroe Star.

He couldn’t remember the long walk to the shuttle bay, where he boarded a ship back to the planet, and the soldier’s life for which he was far more suited.

_[Vette’s note: So that’s it, Quinn. I even let you have the last word. I know I shouldn’t have hacked your journals. I mean, it’s probably good? you needed to “get your thoughts in order” to “solidify this important decision” but I hope you also see that it’s all crap. Until we meet again, I have nothing more to say, except I’m sending Xhareen your journal entries to your child. She needs to see them. Come back soon, OK? -V.]_


	46. Letters to My Daughter

My dearest child,  
I just want to get my thoughts in order. I am so overjoyed by your mother’s news. That you exist. That you are coming to us. That she will be able to put down her lightsabers and be the mother I know she wants to be.  
You should know how honored I am already to be your father. I cannot say more; I am too overwhelmed. Perhaps someday, you will understand that your parents, despite being such complicated people, love each other and love you very much.  
I will be so happy to show you this journal someday.

Your father,  
Major Malavai Quinn.

\-----  
My dearest child,  
I am honoring your mother’s wish not to know your gender until your quickening. It’s not hard, you will be loved regardless. You will have a place in the Empire regardless. We will pave the way for your happiness regardless.  
I broached the topic of naming you Donovar regardless of gender with your mother, to honor my late grandfather the admiral. She approved. It was a lovely moment, even if it was over the holo and even if the war for Corellia was raging in the background on both sides of the conversation.  
You should know you have an entire family eagerly awaiting your arrival, at least on my side. I have made it a challenge to myself to help your mother find her family again, so you can appreciate both sides of your unique heritage.

Your father,  
Major Malavai Quinn.

  
\-----  
My dearest child,  
The fighting here is drawing to its natural conclusion. We are perhaps days away from winning this planet. All the sacrifices, all the time spent away from your mother, it will all be worth it.  
I hope it is possible to convey to you, as soon as you are ready to understand, that I in no way begrudge your mother for her decision to remain fighting. She has been crucial to the inevitable victory in the planet’s capital; truly, I doubt it would have been possible without her.  
She has promised to lay down her sabers once the planet is won. We have a new home on Dromund Kaas to prepare for you.  
Your mother is an amazing person. I cannot wait to see the two of you being introduced.

Your loving father,  
Major Malavai Quinn.

\-----  
My dearest child,  
I might have to rethink my plans to name you Donovar. Someone very close to your mother and I – he would have been your cousin -- has given his life in sacrifice to the Empire. Indeed, he saved my life today in exchange for his. I am still shaking as I type these words.  
So if you wind up being called Darvas, then his story shall be yours.

Your humbled, loyal and grateful father,  
Major Malavai Quinn.

——  
My dearest child,  
The war for Corellia is won! I watched via holo as your mother received a medal around her neck. And when she said it was time for the people of Corellia to go back to their homes and families, secure in the knowledge that the Empire would protect them, she looked right at the holocam and I know she was speaking to me.  
I was overjoyed with pride, of course, but more so even that I will be able to see her in person in just a few days. There are still outbreaks of violence here on the northern continent, and I am responsible for seeing them resolved.  
But I am counting the hours until your family is together and whole again.

Your patriotic father,  
Major Malavai Quinn

\-----  
_The file with the previous entries was deleted, then restored. An addition was made several days later._  
\-----

My dearest child,  
It has been a week almost since you left us. But to me, you still exist in my heart. You might be all that is left of my heart.  
I cannot face your mother right now. We are torn apart by your loss. I am continuing this journal for now in hopes that it proves useful someday.

Your grieving father,  
Major Malavai Quinn.

\-------  
My dearest daughter,  
I found out today from your grandmother, my mother, that you were my daughter. Your mother has named you Avireen and you are to be buried according to Miralukan tradition in your familial burial grounds on her homeworld of Covenant.  
We still have not spoken, your mother and I. Our grief is too thick, like fog after a summer rain. Except it has been more than a month since you left us and it has not lifted. She has not received my holos, nor sent any of her own.  
But I understand. We said cruel things to one another in our grief. Our love is not finished, but clearly, our relationship is.  
Know this, I simply loved her more than my heart could bear. And you as well.  
If it is true what the Jedi believe, that death makes you one with the Force, then one day you will meet her. And if the Maker is especially kind, perhaps before my spirit dissipates into the ether, I will be able to spend one perfect moment with you, too.  
Now I can let you rest.

Your eternal father,  
Major Malavai Quinn.


	47. Interlude: Connection Lost

Quinn slipped through the bustling corridors of the Indomitable in a fog. He didn’t want to risk that the captain who’d brought him here might still be in the shuttle hangar nearest the medcenter – although it has been what, nearly 10 hours now, so why should she still be here? But he took no chances. He boarded one of the dreadnought’s internal trams to the main deployment hangar for Corellian operations.

No one recognized him, but his name was in the database as cleared to travel to and from the planet at will. And all he willed at this moment was to get away. He could feel Xhareen’s Force fingers around his throat if his attention slipped even a bit. She hadn’t choked him; she had been too out of control to do that once she realized that he intended to leave her.

But when he dreamed about the incident on the Yaroe Star while in the waiting room, it felt like she was trying to kill him all over again. She was wild, a force of nature, the tempest wind she was named for. Too much for him. Maybe the storm does not mean to kill you, but that’s of little comfort to your cold corpse.

He put his name on the Next Out list then asked where the nearest ‘fresher was. He’d remembered at least to grab his travel bag from the waiting area that had thankfully been empty. No one even knew Xhareen had woken up earlier than anticipated, although he thought it impossible that her rage-induced fit had escaped notice.

He had managed to just slip out before the real show began.

Now that his hand was not shaking so much, he reached into a small vanity bag and retrieved the stim he had in there. He’d lied to his sister about forgetting it; he just wanted to be alone. Would he have done what he did if that attendant hadn’t come in at that moment?

Probably. Maybe. He couldn’t say and at the same time, he knew it had to be this way. He stuck himself in the thickness of his thigh and even though he knew the drugs didn’t work that way, he pretended they’d at least blunt the pain.

~~~~~  
Kayda was rounding the corner nearest Xhareen’s room when she heard the crashing and the screaming. She tried to enter the room, but the flying debris deterred her. She couldn’t see Xhareen but she could hear her. At least, she thought the inhuman cries were coming from Xhareen.

Eventually, the torrent died down and she ran into the room. Xhareen was under the medical bed, in the fetal position, sobbing and shaking.

Kayda called for an orderly, then demanded he find Dr. Lokin. He seemed unphased by the destruction. He agreed that a tranq was necessary. Let her and her battered body and soul sleep. She and Lokin loaded Xhareen onto an anti-grav bed, and he went with her to another private recovery room.

Kayda was much more mystified, however, by the absence of her brother. She tried to hail him, but he did not answer. She checked to see if he was still on board, but since she wasn’t military, the poor corporal on the computer screen wouldn’t help her, no matter how much she threatened him. She contacted another information unit, this time asserting there was a medical emergency.

That got results – just not the result she was expecting.

Major Quinn had debarked 20 minutes prior for the northern continental headquarters.

While she was waiting, Vette returned.

“Oh man, something pissed Xhareen right off!” she declared.

“You’ve seen this before then?” Kayda asked, still confused as to what happened to Xhareen and to the demolished treatment room.

“Yeah. She was grieving then, too.”

“Did you see my brother leave?” Maybe he’d said something to Vette. Maybe it was some emergency, although she couldn’t imagine anything more important than a child’s death and a gravely injured wife. The Imperial military could be cold and ruthless, but it was always lenient in regard to family matters. Especially for officers.

But maybe her pigheaded brother thought he could work off his grief and headed back.

“Wait, what? Quinn’s gone?”

Kayda nodded. “Back to the planet.”

“What the kriff? You tried to contact him?”

Kayda nodded. “Not picking up.”

Vette kicked a box of bandages that had survived mostly intact on the side of the bed.

“Do you think they had a fight?” she asked.

“All I know is I heard Xhareen screaming. I didn’t hear Mal at all. I came running and saw all this shit flying around the room, like a funnel cloud touched down.”

Vette grabbed her datapad and tried to send an instant text to Quinn.

“Blocked by user” the readout said. “Yeah? Well, kriff that!” Vette said, shouting at the screen.

Before they could do any more detective work, Dr. Lokin came back into the room.

“She’s fine, she’s unconscious for the next six hours at least. But after consulting with the surgeon and your mother – a fine woman, by the way – we think it best that she get on a shuttle to Dromund Kaas right away,” he said.

“I’ll do you one better. The Covenant is docked here, and so is the Phantom. You can look after her in your own medbay,” Vette said.

“And we’ll be right behind you,” Kayda added.

~~~~~

Three days later, they arrived on Dromund Kaas. They were unable to raise Quinn from the Covenant or the Phantom. Vette figured he could detect the Covenant’s signature and ignore any incoming transmissions, but she was surprised he had found a way to ID anything from Zavaa’s ship, protected as it was by her Black Codex.

“Guess I taught him a little too well,” Vette mused.

Xhareen was both fully recovered and fully panicked by the time they arrived. She had expected he might avoid her for a few hours, a day at most. But three and counting? He couldn’t be serious. They couldn’t be over.

Zavaa, Vector and Dr. Lokin came down to the surface. SCORPIO stayed on the ship. Zavaa put them and Xhareen’s crew up at a penthouse apartment in the heart of the city.

Broonmark was still unable to look at Xhareen directly; every time he bowed and apologized, she would lean in and hug him. Jaesa lasted long enough to eat some food before begging to go see her parents, who were currently working on making Xhareen’s new digs that she’d gotten from Baras’s holdings habitable.

Kayda bailed to go see her mother; Xhareen made her promise to reassure Ellys that she was fine and things with her son would right themselves soon enough. And to please not interfere.

Vette and Zavaa got to work trying to find a way to get a message through to Quinn without it looking like it was coming from Xhareen. She and Zavaa worked for hours on the problem, while Xhareen paced in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that yielded a stunning view of the city.

The hazy sun was setting when Xhareen could take no more.

“I know I’m no expert, but maybe the problem isn’t who is sending the call but where it’s coming from,” she said.

Vette’s mouth dropped. “Huh. Maybe I was wasting my time teaching all this to Quinn.”

“I know where we can fake a call from that Quinn won’t be able to ignore,” Zavaa declared.

“His family home?” Vector guessed.

“That’s a backup but I’d rather not use it. Quinn’s not going to ignore anything war-related,” Zavaa said.

“Imperial Command?” Xhareen asked.

Zavaa shook her head. “No. Better. Sith Intelligence.”

~~~~~  
Vette and Zavaa got to work immediately on the problem. Zavaa’s chief concern was how to initiate and send the call without interfering with military communications or attracting any attention from Intelligence headquarters. Interfering with military or Sith communications would be treason, and to do so during wartime would be met with swift execution.

“Whoa,” Vette said when Zavaa explained it. “To think, I’d wind up doing something more dangerous than robbing Sith tombs on Korriban.”

“We just need to be cautious,” Zavaa said. “Xhareen probably could talk her way out of it, but the rest of us would be put on watchlists and I freed myself from that nonsense and don’t wish to put anyone else through it, ever again.”

They returned to the work and got so engrossed, they didn’t realize they were now alone in the workroom Zavaa had converted into a rather sophisticated intelligence center.

“Shhhh,” Vette said suddenly. “What is that sound?”

“It is Xhareen,” Vector said, as he came back into the room. “We showed her the fine acoustics of the upstairs lounge area and how to work the music machine.”

“You’re a genius, Vector,” Vette said.

He knew that, of anyone he knew who was not of the Nest, Xhareen understood best what the Song of the Universe really meant. And even if she did not do so often, she knew best, by instinct, how to access it.

He prayed she could do so now.

~~~~~~  
About an hour, and a dozen or so Sith opera arias later, Vette called Xhareen over the intercom. “We think we can get through.”

Xhareen came down to the room. Zavaa showed her how to initiate the call, and everyone else filed out.

The transmission was to reach directly into Quinn’s office in the command center. Though all Corellia was now quiet, his regiment remained behind on the northern continent.

Xhareen pressed the button. “Maker, please let him be alone,” she whispered.

It took a few seconds longer than normal for his unmistakable features to resolve themselves. Her heart ached to be with him, but this would have to do.

“Corellian Northern Control, Post 2, at your service,” he said, thinking he was being hailed by Sith Intelligence.

But within two seconds, he realized the sham.  
“Malavai, I …” Xhareen said, stopping when she saw the utter look of terror on his face, which immediately grew even paler than normal. He reached to protect his throat right before he leaned in and shut down the call.

~~~~~  
When he felt he could breathe again, Quinn withdrew his hand from his neck and straightened his uniform. Not that a mere hand could block a Force choke, he chided himself.

Did she call just to finish what she started in her hospital room? What she started in the transponder bay?

He wasn’t even sure she could Force choke someone remotely. Xhareen had always been a hands-on killer. Baras boasted he could perform the task, however, and Xhareen was clearly more powerful than their old master.

He spent a few more moments re-gaining his composure, and punching in a few codes on his personal comm line. Then he went to the room outside his private office and found his communications officer, Lt. Kirrika.

“Lieutenant, from now on, you will intercept all my calls, private or otherwise, and then inform me who is calling. You may inspect my comm files and review the logs to journal the frequencies,” he said, before disappearing back into his office.

~~~~~  
Kirrika, since that’s how she thought of herself now, checked the major’s comm logs. She found it interesting that he appeared to have had no contact with his wife, or his family on Dromund Kaas, since just after the fighting ended. She knew he’d been scheduled for a furlough to spend with her, but then the comm channels lit up with reports first of the Sith hero’s death, and then that she was OK and recovering on board the command ship.

But then Quinn returned a few hours later.

So they must have had a falling out, she guessed. It didn’t seem like him to do that, though: to abandon one of his own in their time of need. He’d sat with Jillins’ lifeless body for over half an hour, refusing medical treatment, until the boy could be taken and properly cared for. By all accounts, he loved and was devoted to his wife.

The key must be something that happened to her in her attack. Kirrika spent the next two hours probing the Indomitable’s cyberdefenses, trying to gain access to the medical logs. They were not as well protected as any military information, which made perfect sense.

She managed to get in. She pored through reams of medical jibberish until she found a jaw-dropping entry: “Fetal tissue preserved for study, by order E. Lokin, personal physician.”

So the Sith was attacked and suffered a miscarriage and Quinn was now not speaking to her. And he’d just gotten a strangely encrypted message purporting to be from Sith Intelligence, and immediately, he ordered Kirrika to start screening all his calls.

Her employer – her real one – had been bugging her to find a way to get under Quinn’s skin. Find some vulnerability, some wedge, something to hurt him slowly while also giving them something with which to destroy his Sith wife.

Seems like she’d just found it.

She reluctantly sent an untraceable message and waited for a reply.

~~~~~  
Nerida Broysc smiled. _This is it_ , she thought.

She considered the options for a few moments, then sent a reply: “Make sure neither of them communicates with the other in any way. Whatever rift there might be between them, you will make sure it gets wider.”

~~~~~

 

[ _Author’s note: This is not the whole story, which they will all figure out soon enough._

_Malavai only contacted his mother once, to ask her not to intervene in his relationship in any way. Since Xhareen had begged the same thing, Ellys Quinn reluctantly agreed._

_Eventually, his battalion was sent to the Khar Delban system, where a total news blackout made it difficult and probably too dangerous for Vette to send her document to him._

_It will be several more months before Vette is finally able to get in touch with him._

_And when she does, the news she brings will be enough to start the process of bringing them back together._

_Indeed, it will be enough to change the entire galaxy._ ]

 

**~~~~~END OF PART 2~~~~~**


	48. A Fine Plan, Indeed

 

When Xhareen hadn’t come out of the communications room after more than an hour, Vette got worried. Even Zavaa, who had dismissed her concerns earlier, thought they’d had more than enough time to talk.

Vette didn’t need any more encouragement. She dashed for the corridor, overrode the door controls and entered the room.

The lights had been turned off and Xhareen wasn’t immediately in sight. Vette searched the room, and found Xhareen in the corner behind a data library, curled up and mumbling to herself. Vette tried to talk to her, but she just started singing to herself and rocking back and forth.

When she could find no more words to lure her out, Vette went and got Broonmark. Xhareen let him pick her up. He carried her to the guest bunk room next door, and laid her on the nearest bed. Vette turned to leave, but Xhareen cried out, “No, don’t leave me! Please!”

So she pulled up a chair next to the bed. Xhareen took no more notice of her. Broonmark stood guard.

Zavaa and Vector, having heard her cry out, came to the room. Vette explained what had happened.

“We should just let her rest, then. I guess the call didn’t go too well,” Zavaa said. She excused herself.

Vector joined Broonmark in his silent vigil. He bent his head, touching his forehead to his folded hands.

Zavaa returned a few minutes later. “The call took less than 10 seconds,” she said.

Vette nodded. “Quinn must have just ended the call as soon as he saw it was her. Dammit.”

“He was … afraid … of me,” Xhareen said quietly, between hushed sobs.

“What? Why?” Vette asked, but Xhareen had no more answers for her.

“Stay with her, Vette. I’ll wake up Dr. Lokin. He’ll know what to do,” Zavaa said.

Dr. Lokin came down from the upstairs workroom, which he had turned into a small lab. When he visited the apartment, he usually slept in there on a military-issue cot. If he slept at all.

Xhareen didn’t stir as he did a cursory examination. “Her body’s reacting as though she’s just had a sudden shock,” he said. “She’s still on the mend from her surgery, but no new physical trauma. For now, she should probably just sleep.”

“I should just stay here, with Broonie,” Vette said. “We’ll keep her company and let you know if she needs anything.”

Everyone else filed out.

And so, Vette began her vigil at Xhareen’s bedside, which would consume the next weeks of their lives.

~~~~~

They spent another eight days at Zavaa’s place. Xhareen managed to sit up and eat a few times, change clothes when Vette set out new outfits, and walk to the ‘fresher when necessary, but she said very little.

Except when she slept. Vette took to recording hours of Xhareen’s ramblings. She wasn’t sure why. She knew Xhareen might not be thrilled knowing she was reliving the last argument she had with Quinn over and over in her sleep, out loud for anyone to hear.

Vette took one of the other beds in the bunkroom, so that if Xhareen woke in the night, she wouldn’t be alone. It made recording her nightly recitations easier, too.

Jaesa came back on the seventh day, declaring that Xhareen’s main estate house, the one that had belonged to Darth Ekkage, was now habitable. For all his faults, Baras had made sure to keep this property in near-pristine condition.

Jaesa’s father Gregor had some architectural training and had overseen construction and re-construction of buildings on the Organa compound. He and Parvin, his wife, were also experienced property managers. Xhareen’s settlement with Darth Marr had given them a budget for restoration that might make the Organas jealous.

When Xhareen heard the house was safe for living in, she insisted on going there as soon as possible. They would spend one more night in the downtown, then head out for Xhareen’s compound in the morning.

Xhareen begged out of eating with everyone in the dining area. Vette brought two plates of food and sat with her in the bunkroom. Xhareen barely touched her food, and she ate sitting on the edge of the bed, but she did sound somewhat excited about the prospect of having a new home.

When they were done, Dr. Lokin asked for a brief word with Xhareen.

“My lord, I would like to offer a proposal. Vette has been so kind to show me the plans for your property. It seems like there’s a fortified outbuilding that had once been used as a laboratory. I would like to ask if it would be possible for me to outfit and set up one of my own.

“In exchange for the space and for equipment needs, I can act as your personal physician – along with the very capable Doctors Quinn, of course – but I can also work on replacing your current visor and any other long-term needs you might have.”

Vette saw Xhareen smile for the first time in two weeks. “Of course, Dr. Lokin. I would be happy to sponsor your research, as long as you keep it … within the confines of Kaasian civility and keep me abreast of what you’re doing, as much as is possible, anyway,” she said.

So the next morning, Jaesa hired a taxi – because the droid at the stand would not take an order on Vette’s authority – and they piled in for the 45-minute ride to their new home.

~~~~~

The first question Xhareen asked when they arrived was whether the holocomm worked. When Parvin Willsaam said it did indeed, Xhareen immediately placed a call.

Vette sighed with relief when the call was to Kayda, to let her know the crew had relocated and she was welcome to join them at any time.

~~~~~

Immediately after talking to Kayda, and once she was convinced Vette had gone back to the downstairs room where she’d set up all her computer gear, Xhareen set the holo to “record” and began a message. Perhaps if Malavai was too afraid of her presence live, he might listen to a recording instead.

 

_Malavai,_

_If you have bothered to open this holomessage, then please, I beg you, do me the courtesy of watching it to the end. I will be brief because I know you have duties to attend to._

_I still love you. I always have, and I always will. You will always be my captain._

_I know I hurt you, more than once and in more than one way. I have not yet figured out how to forgive myself for that, not after seeing your face when last I tried to contact you._

_For what it’s worth,_ _I did not think I was breaking my promise to stop fighting, but I allowed myself to be caught up in it again anyway and that is unforgivable. And an innocent life was lost because of it. Our child …_

_It pains me that you think I am a monster, but I won't try to talk you out of it, either. I am what I am. If that makes me a monster, then that is what I must be. You know I do everything for the same reason you do -- for the Empire._

_I love the Empire, but I love you more, and I should have remembered that. I should have put you first, where you belong. I thought it would look terrible for the Hero of Corellia to say no to a pleading child; I should have thought about how you would look, thinking I had dishonored my promise to you. Or how we would look without our own child._

_Please, accept my apology. Please, tell me what I can do to make things up to you._

_I want you back, husband. I want to be your wife._

_Vette has set up a special frequency we can communicate over and it’s embedded in this message. It’s some protected Sith channel I’m entitled to use and it’s military rated or something. She misses you, too, you know. So do your family._

_Please come back to us all._

_Your wife, signing out._

 

Xhareen pressed “send” to the same frequency she had contacted him on right after the hospital.

Then, for the first time in many years, she said a small prayer to the Maker.

 

~~~~~

_**Four weeks after the attack on Corellia** _

Kayda Quinn returned to the estate on the outskirts of the Kaas City metroplex with a smile on her face. The rain had let up for at least two hours today, and most of the downtown area near the military headquarters complex was alive with people drinking in the sun, an oddity for this time of year.

The pretty auburn-haired counselor had smiled at her across the lunchroom again. The second time this week. Kayda wasn’t sure why she was being so coy; normally when she saw a woman she was attracted to, she’d go right up and make contact, get a feel for whether “that spark” was there or not.

But for some mysterious reason this time, she couldn’t do it.

She’d been attending training sessions meant for former soldiers returning to active duty – although Kayda’s was a special case, since she was serving as personal medic to a Sith. But service was every citizen’s duty, and the recent spate of casualties meant just about any warm body could ask for training to assist the war effort.

Buildings in the military core that had gone vacant were now bustling with recruits. The victory on Corellia, though costly, had spurred even greater interest all through the Empire. People from a dozen Imperial worlds were descending on Dromund Kaas. Kayda enjoyed the newfound energy the city had.

But she returned every evening to Xhareen’s home. She prayed as she punched in her security code at the outer gate that things inside the sprawling house had lightened some, too. Any improvement in Xhareen’s mood would be fine, she asked the stars.

Not that anyone wanted to force her to work through her grief at anything other than her own pace. It’s just that everyone in the house felt her sadness, too, and they were all still at a loss as to how to deal with her loss of Malavai.

Kayda’s solution would have involved punching him, like when they were kids. But he was back with his unit, Maker only knew where, and not communicating with anyone back on Dromund Kaas.

Xhareen had managed to come out of her room a little more these past few days. She’d even put on something more formal than a sleeping gown – one of the tunic sets Kayda had programmed the fabrication droid on the Covenant to make.

It was nearly a watershed moment. The day after they arrived at the estate, Xhareen had tried to put on one of her old outfits, which was still too tight. So she tried one of the suits that had been made for her to wear under her armor on Corellia, and that was too loose. Despite barely eating, she hadn’t yet lost the weight she had gained carrying her child.

“Every piece of fabric,” she complained, “reminds me of what I have lost.”

And with that, she retreated to her room.

But the Quinn women were not to be deterred. Ellys Quinn had once been one of the busiest – and well-dressed -- obstetricians in Kaas City. If anyone knew about post-maternity fashion, it would be the elder Mrs. Quinn.

Three days ago, under the guise of assisting Dr. Lokin with a physical exam, Kayda had taken Xhareen’s exact measurements. Then she consulted with her mother, who was eager for every sign that her daughter in law was getting better.

As they, along with Rissa, conspired to at least resolve this one problem for their newest family member, Ellys made it clear to Kayda that Xhareen really needed to speak with someone about her grief.

“She’s Sith, Mother. It won’t be easy. They are by nature and by job description unwilling to open themselves up and be seen as vulnerable,” Kayda warned.

“Then it should be you, Kay. Just listen at first, see what it is she’s saying. You’re smart, you’re a good listener. You should be able to figure it out from there.”

 _Maybe I should ask that counselor for some guidelines_ , Kayda mused. But she just smiled and said, “That’s a fine plan, Mum.”

_A fine plan indeed._

 

 

 

 

 

 


	49. A Cold, Dark Place

Toovee greeted Kayda at the door in a surprisingly quiet, subdued voice.

“Welcome, Master Kayda. We have guests in the back parlor, including your mother and uncle,” he said, bowing his head slightly before shuffling back to who knew where.

Kayda brushed past the droid; she had yet to warm up to him like the others had. She saw how Xhareen treated him like a crewmember, practically like family, and not just like a bucket of bolts that knew how to make dinner and press shirts.

The back parlor was just off the central passage, the closest guest room on the main floor to the stairs. They must have called Xhareen down from her second-floor chambers where she had cocooned herself for the past weeks.

It wasn’t that many steps, but for some reason, it felt like a kilometer’s sprint from the main door to the parlor. The droid, or maybe the Willsaams, had something luscious-smelling cooking in the kitchen at the end of the west passage.

But Ellys Quinn, accompanied by Dr. Lokin, had clearly not come for dinner. Both were dressed in clinical garb covered with overcoats they had yet to remove. Drayden was in his typical, impeccably tailored suit, such as one would expect for a retired military man.

Xhareen was leaning back, one hand covering her mouth, the other bracing her body against the large, ancient wooden desk that dominated the room. Drayden stood next to her, holding onto her arm as though they were long-time friends. She nodded as Ellys spoke quietly; the elder woman reached out her hand to comfort her daughter in law.

Dr. Lokin was the first to notice Kayda standing in the doorway. He nudged Ellys who motioned her daughter to come in.

“My dear, we brought some news about the baby. As Xhareen’s medic, you should hear this.”

Kayda went over and put her arm around Xhareen, who nodded and whispered, “It’s OK, Dr. Lokin, you can tell her for me. But perhaps we should all sit down first.”

Kayda sat next to Xhareen on one side, and her uncle on the other. Somehow, the Willsaams had acquired a dark red sofa with Killik silk pillows since the last time Kayda had looked in this room. Dr.  Lokin and her mother took up the comfortable armchairs facing it. Ellys was clutching a small metal capsule, not much larger than a wratling. She stroked it periodically as though it were one.

“As a matter of routine, I ordered genetic tests on the … “ He hesitated.

“Please, doctor, explain it how you see fit. It changes nothing,” Xhareen said softly.

“The fetal tissue recovered after the attack. The test discovered there were abnormalities.”

“What kind of abnormalities?” Kayda asked.

“It would seem that the child was conceived while Xhareen had a good deal of contraceptive hormones in her system. And that the stim she received was formulated for humans, further complicating matters.”

“The last stim I got was on Dromund Kaas. No one asked whether I was human or not. I didn’t think to say anything, either,” Xhareen said.

“So what would have happened if Xhareen hadn’t been attacked?” Kayda asked, though she was sure she didn’t want the answer.

“There was almost no chance she would have carried the child much longer,” Ellys answered.

“The Jedi who attacked me said I was carrying a monster. He had no idea he was actually right.”

Kayda had never heard Xhareen sound so bitter or so resigned. She hadn’t spoken to her much since the attack; Xhareen seemed most comfortable talking to Vette anyway. But this gave her a sudden chill.

“Is anyone going to tell Malavai?” Kayda asked.

“We attempted to contact him right before you got home. His battle group has been sent somewhere confidential, but I’m getting your Uncle here on the case. At least maybe we can get him a message before we leave,” Ellys said.

“Leave? Where are we going?”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Kayda, but I must take the child’s remains for burial on Covenant. She’s the oldest daughter of an oldest daughter and that makes her the carrier of my family legacy,” Xhareen said.

“A girl,” was all Kayda could say in response. And then it hit her that the capsule in Ellys’s hand held the remains of her niece.

Kayda had only recently thought about having a family of her own, having a child or two. Rissa’s son had gotten the thought going but it wasn’t until she met Xhareen and saw how happy Mal was about being a father that she realized she was finally ready for it.

And now she’d be celebrating that decision with a funeral.

~~~~~

**On Ilum**

Malavai Quinn hated the cold. He hated the special clothing. He hated the protocols. He knew all of them, could recite them from memory, but still he hated them.

But there was something transcendent about the ever-night sky here on this frozen rock. There were times when he could look all around him and see nothing but ice and rock and the occasional tauntaun. The caves were said to glow with crystals and phosphorescing life forms. He hoped to get a chance to explore them soon.

Not that he was alone on this planet. Something had driven the Empire to come here and carve out territory among the abandoned Republic bases and buildings, knowing there were Republic troops and mercenaries guarding sites long held sacred to the Jedi. He suspected everyone’s sudden interest had something to do with the crystals, but he had not been privy to any high-level briefings as of yet.

He also suspected it had something to do with the growing contingent of alien soldiers under his command. Since the fighting on the northern continent of Corellia – a planet he tried every day to forget – they’d received numerous honors and commendations. New recruits, many off Ziost, soon followed. Their ranks swelled to almost the size of a traditional battalion: more than 600 troops, 82 of which were non-humans. No one in logistical command even flinched when he requisitioned 16 sets of Twi’lek extreme weather head gear.

Quinn now had his own command ship, hovering somewhere in orbit over the region the Empire had claimed. More than 50 personnel handled administrative, intelligence and analysis tasks, while the troops on the ground would provide security and recon for the upcoming operation. There had been so much to do these past few weeks he could almost put his prior “family trouble” behind him.

He could almost sleep at night.

When his comms officer, Lt. Kirrika, questioned him about the business with his wife, he deferred to “Sith affairs” as his only answer. She looked hurt that he wouldn’t open up; he had not meant to make her think he didn’t trust her. But he had to preserve his dignity and, in moments when he was completely honest with himself, to preserve Xhareen’s privacy as well.

The blissfully busy days – hours based on the Imperial standard clock and artificially imposed on the base, since the standard day on Ilum was four Kaasian months long – got him well practiced in forgetting the tragic events on Corellia. He spent mornings on the ship dealing with battalion matters, afternoons on the surface, helping to oversee rehabilitation of the ancient structure into a suitable Imperial basecamp, and evenings in meetings in one place or the other. He slept on the ship for a few hours each night, since there were no officers’ quarters on the planet yet.

There were times on the ship when someone would call out “Captain,” and Quinn nearly responded, but then he would quickly recover and realize they wanted one of the four competent officers under him. He toyed with the idea of switching services, transposing his rank from “Major” to “Captain” once again. But that would be too confusing, so he chided himself for the frivolous thought and went back to his report on pre-stressing procedures for durasteel in extremely cold climates.

It was early evening when he realized he hadn’t eaten dinner. No pressing matters remained planetside, so he headed to the transport pad to board a shuttle for the ship. He remembered all the rules for the brief walk in the elements: Gear all snapped, rechecked from head to toe; face shield set into grooves on the headgear, wraps above the bootlines secured.

He nearly made it to the transport pad when the dark night got even darker.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Suddenly, he was blinded by bright light. He was wearing a white tunic and light gray trousers, like he had on Tatooine, or like one might on vacation on Dromund Kaas. He hadn’t vacationed on Dromund Kaas, or anywhere, really, since he was a boy.

A young girl, with brown skin and bright blue eyes, wearing a bright green hat over her thick, black curls ran up to him.

“Daddy! Daddy! Come see all the fish! They’re flying!”

“Avireen, haven’t I told you to call me “Father” in public?” He couldn’t quite fathom that the words were coming out of his mouth, or why he would be scolding this small angel in front of him.

“But it’s just us here, Daddy. You, me and Mummy.” She pouted and his heart broke.

“I’m sorry, dear. Daddy just woke up and lost his bearings. Where are these fish?”

“Come over here where Mummy and I are standing. You can see them from there!”

Quinn followed the little girl … his daughter, he tried to tell himself … across a stretch of black sand to a jetty that reached out into a small lagoon. There were birds above the water – no, those must be the fish the girl … his daughter, Avireen … was going on about.

They were on Dromund Kaas. He knew the name of those fish, their scientific classification, their approximate numbers, breeding habits and distribution across the planet. He knew he knew these things, he just couldn’t make the right terms come into his head.

“Malavai!” That warm, dark voice. He’d know it anywhere. “Come enjoy the sun while it lasts!”

“My love,” he said, running to her and scooping her up in his arms before kissing her with great ardor.

“Well,” she said when she could breathe again. “I should leave you to sleep on the beach more often!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He blinked from the bright sunlight and he was no longer on the beach. He was in uniform, sitting at a table covered with food. The woman with the beautiful voice, his daughter’s mother, his wife, his lover, his … Xhareen. He slapped the table as the name came to him and the dozen or so people around the table stopped their joyful chattering.

“A toast,” he said as he stood up, lifting his glass of light bubbling wine, “to my wonderful wife, Xhareen, on our 15th wedding anniversary!”

Everyone took a drink except for a young woman sitting next to Xhareen, who poked her and nodded. “It’s OK, Avireen. You’re old enough for a toast!”

The girl – it was the little girl from the beach, now grown into a beautiful young woman. She still had the thick curls and the blue eyes. He would have recognized her anywhere. She lifted her glass and took a sip, then another. And another.

“Slow down, child,” her mother chastised, and everyone around the table laughed.

“Can I make a toast?” she asked, nervously.

“Of course,” both her parents said at the same time. More laughter.

“I want to thank my parents for giving me and my siblings such a loving, wonderful home. You are my bright, shining lights and I am truly grateful to be the bearer of your legacy.”

Xhareen leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and said something Quinn couldn’t quite hear, but that made everyone else laugh. He glanced down at his uniform and suddenly realized he didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t Imperial. Too much gold trim. Almost gaudy. Before he could ask where he was, he blinked again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The temple glistened in the soft sunlight shining through a translucent golden roof. All the preparations were complete, of that Commandant Malavai Quinn was certain. He’d check his datapad that held the entirety of the day’s events and the months of planning in his hand and tapped it again.

He saw unfamiliar wrinkles on the back of his ungloved right hand, then pulled the white glove he held in his other hand back over it. He was in uniform again, this one as gaudy as the one he’d worn last night to dinner. Or was it longer ago than that?

Xhareen walked in, her visor covered with a light silken wrap which she appeared to be trying to adjust, unsuccessfully. Quinn walked over to her and offered to assist.

“Thank you, darling. Who thought with all the preparations for our oldest daughter’s wedding, I would be undone by a symbolic piece of silk?” She laughed.

Quinn removed the wrap entirely and went to start over. Xhareen turned to him – and he was met with glistening brown eyes the color of preserved wroshyr seeds. It was her, of that he was certain, despite the wisps of silver in her hair and a little more of a waistline than he remembered.

“Your eyes … you have eyes …” he stammered.

“I’ve had them for a dozen years, silly. Remember the surgery? Implants? The best biotech credits can buy? I only wear the wrap when tradition requires it. My parents came all the way from Covenant to be here; the least I can do is honor my lineage.”

He stared at her. He knew words were coming out of his mouth but when he went to dab the tears forming in his eyes, he blinked and she was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He kept hearing her voice, as if at the other end of a long hallway. “How does it feel to be a grandfather, old man?” She said that five or six times. “You’re not getting any younger, don’t you think it’s time to retire? The galaxy will be fine if you do.” “Please, husband. Take it easy. You need to rest.”

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of words, of love and laughter and pleading and joy and even sadness. Faces of friends he knew and some he did not. Weddings and funerals and rituals and holidays until the weight of having lived a full life left him flat on his back and cold.

He forced himself to blink one last time.

~~~~~

 

Quinn woke in the medbay on the lower level of the base, covered in warming blankets, a kolto drip attached to his arm.

A familiar face greeted him: Lt. Drix’el, the Twi’lek recruit he’d known since Balmorra, whose bravery and competence on Corellia had earned him a commission – at Quinn’s personal recommendation.

“Couldn’t bear to leave me behind on the planet, eh, Major?” he said, flashing the same smile that made him one of the most popular members of the battalion.

“What …” Quinn managed to say before his voice broke.

A corpsman appeared from the back of the room with a small cup of warm broth. “Here, sir. Your core temperature is fine now, but you’re a bit malnourished and the wampa stew is especially palatable tonight.”

He drank as ordered, draining the cup and thanking the medic, a young Chiss female.

“What happened, Drix’el?”

“Not sure, sir. You passed out. Medics brought you back here, got you warmed up. Doc looked you over but there was nothing wrong. My grandmother would have said you were given a prophecy but she was full of all that superstitious stuff from all the way back to Ryloth.”

“If there’s nothing wrong, I should be on my way back to the ship, then,” Quinn said.

“You should, but first, you have an incoming call from High Command, secure line.” He handed Quinn the portable holoreceiver. “I’ll just take this lovely corpsman out of the way and you can have your privacy.”

The woman laughed. “You _must_ be Drix’el.”

He bowed, shot a smirk at Quinn, and the two of them left the room.

Quinn touched the side of the device and it whirred to life.

It was a recorded message from his Uncle Drayden.

“Malavai, it’s taken me hours to find you, though technically I’m not supposed to know where you are. Your mother has information from Dr. Lokin you need to hear. I’m patching her in, but it’s voice only.”

After a brief delay, his mother joined the call. She sounded tired; the light emitting from the device wavered slowly with her voice.

“Mal, son, you need to know this. Your child? It was a girl, a daughter. Dr. Lokin performed some tests and discovered some abnormalities in her genetics. She would not have been able to survive long enough to quicken. He believes it was due to Xhareen being given the wrong contraceptive stims. Apparently, someone assumed she was human. Regardless, my dearest boy, she would not have made it no matter what Xhareen did or did not do. I know you’re still grieving and hurting in your own way, but I wanted you to know.

“We are taking the remains to be buried on Xhareen’s homeworld. We know you can’t get there in time even if you could get away from your duties. Your uncle and sisters and I will be there to represent the family.”

He heard her voice break a little. He hadn’t heard her like this since his father died, since he took everything out of her hands and made all the arrangements for the funeral himself. Since he was a young officer with a promising career ahead of him.

Since before he was the man he was now.

She got herself back under control and continued: “I know you don’t want to speak to Xhareen, and I could smack you for that, but you needed to know. She named the child Avireen. She said you would know the story.

“Goodbye, son. Good hunting. Come back to us, all of us. We love you. She loves you.”

The line went to static, then his uncle’s figure appeared again.

“That’s all the time I have on this secured line. Be well, Malavai.”

He faded out.

Quinn lay back on the bed. He rang the buzzer and the medic, sans Drix’el, returned. He asked if he could have a tranq and spend the night here. She nodded and said she’d be back.

Maybe if he could sleep, he could go back to the dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	50. We Leave You Now With The People

**On Covenant**

The cruiser landed at the main passenger spaceport that sat three kilometers outside the main city of Altraba. Drayden used his status to requisition a Sith luxury liner to take the party – which had grown to 12 souls by the time of takeoff – to Xhareen’s home planet. Pierce, Vector and Zavaa joined Jaesa, Vette and Broonmark, along with the Quinn contingent: Ellys, Kayda, Rissa and her son, and Drayden. 

It was just over two days at max speed. Two young naval officers piloted and would stay with the ship while it was docked. 

Drayden took control of watching over Xhareen. She gravitated toward him and, about 12 hours from the end of the flight, she could even be heard laughing with him as they sat in the spacious galley and drank caff. 

As they prepared to debark, Xhareen pulled Kayda aside. “Your uncle tells the most fascinating stories,” she said. 

“You should only believe half of half of them and none of the rest,” Kayda warned. “But it’s good to hear you laugh and see you smile.” 

“I’m glad your mother waited to tell me about the remains. I don’t think I could have gone through this right after … after everything that happened.” She bit at her lips. 

“We’re here for you, Xhareen. All of us. I mean, look at this rabble.” 

And Xhareen did it again. _Laughed_. 

They both reached in for a hug. 

Ellys came around the corner at that moment. 

“Kayda, please. She’s spoken for,” she said without missing a beat. 

Kayda looked at her mother, who managed to hold her regal “serious face” for a good four seconds before cracking a smile. 

“Mother, you are terrible. But Xhareen, if my stupid brother doesn’t come to his senses …” 

And all three women laughed.

~~~~~

 

The giant metallic shell of a spaceship dominated the skyline outside the spaceport. 

“That’s the last remnant of one of the colony ships that brought us here,” Xhareen explained. “This might be our home, but we’re taught from a young age to never forget we came from somewhere else.” 

“Did your people come directly from Alpherides? I can’t believe I never asked you that before,” Vette said. 

“No, there were other planets along the way, but, it’s been so long … I haven’t been home in 20 years and I honestly can’t remember the list we all had to memorize as kids.” 

She also had very little idea about what a Miralukan funeral would entail. She remembered her grandfather’s funeral when she was 6: the red bands everyone wore, the recitations and the singing. She remembered a tiny replica of her grandparents’ cozy home placed on his grave, next to the other structures that dated back two hundred years at least on the family plot. A big feast at their home afterwards, her Nama ( _maternal grandmother; see notes at end_ ) dressed in sky blue robes and presiding over a long line of mourners. 

Hers was an important bloodline, directly traced back to the first Sith who negotiated the settlement terms with the original Miralukan colonists more than 600 years ago. That was what the “Nah” in her name meant, that she could trace her direct maternal line back to the first Sith who signed the covenant with the colonists. That bit she could never forget. 

She had hoped that would buy her enough goodwill to get some help from the Prefect’s office in quickly planning a burial. 

She was completely unaware just how far the office had gone to please an important Sith lord.

~~~~~

 

The party was greeted at the monorail station just inside the city border. The Prefect, Samish Lahtore, assured Xhareen all was in place for a ceremony the next day, and that they could discuss details privately once everyone was settled in the visitors’ center. 

Lahore had arranged lodging in the center and processed them through customs already. Ellys assured Xhareen she would get everyone settled and not to worry. Broonmark insisted on remaining by Xhareen’s side, which, surprisingly, did not bother Lahtore at all. 

Xhareen and Broonmark followed Lahtore to the prefecture offices, a grand suite on the main floor. Though there were many alien enclaves on the planet, and Altraba was the most cosmopolitan city, a Talz did not escape notice. 

“My lord, I understand the nature of your title within the Empire is not something for public consumption, although as a planetary diplomat, I do have access to some restricted knowledge. You are booked as Darth Tempest, rather than Lord Wrath,” they said. 

She nodded in thanks. Lahtore opened the door and bid her enter. She could see three people in their office, looking out the window at something on the city street below. 

She knew who the trio were before they even turned around, even though she hadn’t seen them since the day she left this planet to be fostered on Dromund Kaas. 

Her three surviving grandparents. When Xhareen had informed the Prefect, they must have tracked her family down. 

The years that had separated them suddenly meant nothing and Xhareen was a little girl again and she was their first, prized grandchild. They hugged and cried and each of the grandparents pulled Xhareen by the shoulders to size her up and then hugged and cried some more. 

When Xhareen could finally breathe, she said, “It’s so good to see you, all of you. I just wish …” and then began to sob again. 

Avila Nah-garesh, her Nama, took her into her arms. “There’s no judgment here, girl. We know you haven’t had an easy life all on your own. The important thing is you need your family now and we are here for you.” 

“What about my parents? Naveen?” 

“We were hoping they would come with you, but the Prefect informed us otherwise,” her other grandmother, Noufar Garen, said. 

“I got word months ago that the contact who knew their location had died before passing the information to another keeper,” Xhareen said, reliving that flash of the pain she’d felt when it all happened. When she lost her parents again. When Vette lost her mother. When she nearly cost Vette her relationship with her sister because she wouldn’t let them storm the Hutt’s palace. The collision of grief and anger had sent her into a fit of rage, just like Quinn’s announcement a few weeks ago that he was leaving her did. 

Grief and rage punctuated her life the jurgoran skin drums in a Sith opera: You never knew when they were going to sound, but once they did, you knew something bad was coming. It was fun and exhilarating during a performance, but terrifying when it happened in your own life. 

And dangerous to those you love. 

“As did we,” her grandfather, Matos, said. He began to shuffle his feet and nod his head toward the doorway, which was filled to all four boundaries with the white fur of Broonmark. 

“That’s one of my companions, Papi. Broonmark, you can come in. These are my birth clan, and they are now yours, too.” 

She wasn’t sure which of her grandmothers gasped louder, which was suddenly the funniest noise she had ever heard. She gave out a laugh, setting her elders at ease. 

Once Broonmark unblocked the doorway, the Prefect entered the room. 

“I have made lodgings available for your grandparents along with the rest of your family, my lord,” they said. 

“We should go, then. I have a lot of introductions to make,” Xhareen said.

~~~~~

 

The party, now grown by three, took up an entire floor in the lodging area of the center. A lavish spread of food and drink, quite a bit of it flown in from Dromund Kaas, covered a table in the commons area and was kept full the whole day and into the night. 

Everyone, Xhareen included, spent most of the time in the lounge area that connected most of the rooms. Though subdued by the somber nature of the gathering, there was still the occasional bout of laughter, especially later in the day when the alcoholic drinks began to flow. 

Ellys spent much of the time with Xhareen’s grandparents. She blamed the war for her son’s absence, and hoped they saw her anger and hurt as just more grief. Xhareen’s family accepted her excuse, though Ellys knew they had no frame of reference by which to judge her truthfulness. The twinge of guilt she felt gradually went away with each glass of the sweet green wine she drank. 

Extra food was brought in around evening meal time. Prefect Lahtore appeared, handing out flimsi tablets explaining the details of a Miralukan funeral. There were instructions for where to stand and how to wear the traditional red band of mourning for non-Miraluka. They all had to fast in the morning, however, and would break fast after the ceremony. Lahtore said goodnight and said they would come two hours after sunrise to get everyone aboard a private transport to Xhareen’s hometown. 

Zavaa took it upon herself to hand out the red bands. It was easy enough for the humans to wear them as headbands, and Vette decided she could tie hers over her normal tiara-band and angle it down below her lekku. 

Broonmark, however, gave up. The band only stretched two thirds of the way around his head. Custom said that non-Miraluka only had to have the band “touching” their heads, so Jaesa suggested he tie it around his neck. Pierce was the only one tall enough to help him. 

It fit, but was completely lost in his fur. 

The laughter that broke out drew Xhareen’s attention. She sized up the situation, then asked Vector if she could have his headband. 

She tied two ends together, then told Broonmark to kneel. She and Pierce tied the two around his head. The two ends sat up on the front of his head like small antennae, which made everyone laugh. Broonmark might have even been laughing as he stood up, and gave Xhareen a smothering hug. 

“Thank you all for being here,” she said once he had let her go. “I really have no other words except that.” 

They each filed up to her and hugged her in turn. 

Vette, however, started to cry. Jaesa and Zavaa ran to her. Xhareen came, too. 

“We’re … not … all … here,” Vette blubbered. 

The entire room fell silent. 

“I can still feel him,” Xhareen whispered to her. “I know he’s grieving along with us. And I know he will return.” 

Vette cried some more, stopping when she started to hiccup. 

“I’ll take her to her room. Stay with her a while,” Jaesa said. 

The rest of her friends and Rissa excused themselves, leaving Xhareen with Ellys, Kayda and her grandparents. 

Xhareen cleared her throat a few times more than she probably needed to. “There are things I need to tell you all. I trust those who already know to keep it to themselves, but, Malavai and I have been through things and I am not going to hide it. 

“You are all my family, and family does not hide these things.” 

~~~~~

 

**_The next morning_ **

Ellys Quinn was fine until she saw the hat. 

She’d kept her composure all the way through the strange and beautiful service for her granddaughter, through the processional from the nearby temple, to the recitations of names, the songs in Miralukese, the chanting and the singing and the prayers. 

Kayda, who had to stand in for her absent brother, had been the one Xhareen chose to put the silver capsule into the prepared ground in a plot crowded with Xhareen’s maternal ancestors. She’d be next to Xhareen’s maternal grandfather, Shavir, an exobiologist like his wife who died during a field survey of an uninhabited, unnamed Imperial world. 

What happened next was not listed on the detailed order of service the Prefect had handed each of them last night. There was supposed to be another blessing, the act of setting the deceased free from the bonds of the people to join the ancestors, if she remembered correctly. 

But Xhareen, exercised her right as head mourner to make an addition to the ceremony. After the capsule that held the unborn child’s remains was set down, Xhareen stepped forward and pulled something from inside her left sleeve. 

She opened up the flattened gray bundle to reveal what it was: an Imperial military hat with captain’s bars. Clearly, Malavai’s hat. [a/n: the one [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4757990/chapters/17565730).] 

Xhareen touched the hat to her lips, inhaled deeply, and then laid it on top of the tiny coffin. And that was when Ellys Quinn could hold her tears back no longer. The physician inside her was certain this was simply low blood sugar due to fasting, not the unbearable misery of losing a grandchild and having her only son exile himself from her once again. 

Drayden, her brother in law and beloved uncle to her children, quickly moved next to her and put his arm around her, whispering calming words. Rissa, who was carrying baby Malavai in her arms, slid up next to her on the other side. The Talz stepped in behind them, and the others – Xhareen’s crew and friends – drew closer, too. 

Ellys tried to stifle her sobs, which served only to startle the baby, who began to wail. 

Xhareen and the Priestess, who had yet to complete the burial ritual, stopped what they were doing. Xhareen nodded to her grandparents, attired in red robes with matching red scarves tied over their eyeless faces, and they all began to sing. 

Apparently, Ellys realized, the Miraluka had contingencies for when grief could no longer be kept inside. Xhareen’s paternal grandmother, the one she called Moti, began, and the others followed. The harmonies were unlike anything she had experienced, even in the other songs sung during the funeral. Ethereal and most definitely alien to her ears, but soothing in a way that even drugs could never be. 

The baby immediately stopped his crying. A chair was brought for her, so Ellys sat down. She felt better, but was not yet in control; normally this would distress her, but the music gave her permission to mourn without worry. 

When Ellys’s tears subsided, Xhareen nodded to the Priestess – who in her mundane life was this city’s chief magistrate – and the elder woman first sprinkled salt from the ocean and then sweet herbs from a nearby community garden into the grave. The singing continued throughout. 

After a few more moments, the song ended. Ellys felt rested and calm. Not quite free of her sadness, but no longer burdened by it. She stayed seated, however, not willing to test her legs just yet. 

At Xhareen’s request, dirt from deep within the nearby forest had been brought for covering the grave. Kayda and the grandparents each grabbed a metallic scoop and quickly filled the small hole. Her maternal grandmother, the family matriarch, tossed the last bit in and tamped the soil down. 

More salt and herbs were strewn on top. Another blessing was said. 

Then Xhareen stepped forward and in her clear, powerful voice, said: “Avireen Nah-garesh Quinn, we leave you now with the People, with the ones who have gone before.” 

She took the torch she had carried from the temple and plunged it into the container of dirt. 

“The fire of our grief has been extinguished, and life must go on. You will never be forgotten.” 

She stepped forward, and placed a stone carving of a house atop the grave, nestling it into the fresh dirt. The purpose, Ellys had learned the night before, was to let the dead know they would always have a place among their kin, even though the Miralukas’ deepest belief was that the souls of the dead return to the Force. Generations of houses and buildings made the plot, like most of the other plots she could see, look like a small village. 

Ellys had to finally admit to herself she was disappointed the child could not be interred in the Quinn family crypt on Dromund Kaas, but at least her tiny soul would always have a home. 

~~~~~

 

The mourners gathered back at the temple, a simple wooden building painted the same blue as Xhareen’s robes. Ellys was glad to be able to sit down again. 

A spread of food, modest compared to what they’d had back at the visitors’ center, had been laid out. The Priestess and the Prefect stayed for a few minutes, then took their leave. Temple workers kept the drinks poured while the group milled about. 

Ellys found herself seated between Xhareen’s grandmothers, and the women spent over an hour quizzing each other about family ties and customs. Finally, Ellys thought she could ask a question that had been bothering her since before they left Dromund Kaas: the story behind the name Avireen. Xhareen had said to tell Malavai that was what she had named their daughter, and that he would know why. 

But Ellys had not wanted to upset her, so she didn’t press the matter further. 

Xhareen must have overheard her asking, because she came up and put her hands around her grandmother Noufar’s neck and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Moti, I think you should tell the story,” she said. 

The older woman nodded, took a drink of her wine, and began.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family colloquial relationship titles, diasporic Miralukese headcanon:
> 
> Mother: Mami  
> Father: Baba
> 
> Maternal grandmother: Nama  
> Maternal grandfather: Bata
> 
> Paternal grandmother: Moti  
> Paternal grandfather: Papi


	51. The Winds Awaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A legend of the diasporic Miraluka of the planet Covenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Months ago, even before they were lovers, Xhareen told this story to Quinn when he asked the origin of her name.]

 

 

One day, the sun fell from the sky. The land went dark, the trees cried and the rivers dried up.

It stayed dark for weeks. The people were afraid. Their stores were low, since this was spring and they were still living off the rations from winter. The fowl stopped laying eggs and the cows stopped giving milk. The wild animals of the forest ran away.

The people grabbed all the fish they could from the riverbeds and used up all the salt they had to preserve them. But the Wise Elders knew it wouldn’t last. The crops planted in the fields wouldn’t grow without the sun.

While the people worried, predators circled the village. They knew the people had mighty hunters with weapons among them, so they bided their time. They were hungry, too, but they were also patient.

The adults and the elders gathered. They talked and shouted and talked some more. “Something must be done!” they demanded. So they argued some more about what to do. Finally, the elders dismissed the adults and went to deliberate at the temple.

While the elders talked, the people prayed to the sky.

There was a little girl of the tribe, boisterous and strong. Her name was Xhareen. She told her mother, “I can blow and blow and blow until the scrub wolves and the tusk cats run away.”

Her mother took her to the Head Woman, who had emerged from the temple to drink water, and had her repeat what she had said.

The Head Woman shrugged. “It can’t hurt. Just make sure she doesn’t go out alone.” Then she went back into the temple.

The mother had three sisters, each of whom had a daughter with extraordinary talents. They agreed they would all go, and take their daughters with them.

Samheen had the touch of cold: She could keep food from spoiling and burns from hurting.

Naveen had the touch of warmth: She could set tinder on fire and ease the aching bones of the elders.

Gamheen was the wise one, wise beyond her years. Everyone said she would be Head Woman someday.

Gamheen had a younger sister, Avireen. She had no extraordinary talent, but her father said her smile lit up the sky and made the sun jealous. She was smaller than other girls her age, but she was always smiling and it never seemed to bother her.

“I want to come,” she told her sister and her cousins. “Maybe I could light the way for you.”

Samheen laughed at her little cousin. “That’s just a saying, you silly fool. You’re just a baby. You’re too small to be of any help to the rest of us.”

Naveen shushed Sami. “Don’t pick on her, cousin, she doesn’t know any better. At least she wants to help.”

Xhareen had run ahead and didn’t even hear the conversation.

Gamheen thought for a moment. She didn’t want it to look like she favored her own sister over the others, but she didn’t want to spend the journey in darkness, either.

“You can come along, but you must stay quiet. And when we have need of you, you must shine.”

Avireen nodded. The mothers agreed. These were desperate times and the children were no safer if they stayed behind and starved.

The women set out with torches to the edge of the village, and the girls following close behind.

As the party drew close to where the village road became just a path into the woods, the wolves began to howl and the cats began to wail.

“They chased away the sun and all the deer we love to eat!” the wolves complained.

“They took all the fish from the waters that we live on!” the cats hissed.

“We won’t go hungry tonight!” the animals cried out in unison, with great glee.

The cats crouched down and began to size up their next meals. The wolves raised their hackles and began to pace.

Then the leader of the cats and the leader of the wolves stepped forward and faced their angry, starving packs.

“We will go talk to the people,” the Head Wolf decreed, his eyes glowing red. The others could see the sly smile on his face.

“And we will make them think we want to make a deal,” the Head Cat seethed. Her eyes glowed green, not with reflection, but with hatred from within.

So the Head Wolf and the Head Cat approached the party of women, crouching down as to seem docile, wagging and waving their tails. The women saw the glowing eyes approach them. They pointed their torches toward the two figures and told the girls to fall in behind them.

“Go away, beasts,” Xhareen’s mother said.

“We just want to talk,” the Head Cat purred.

“We can reach a truce,” the Head Wolf agreed.

Hidden behind their mothers from the predators’ glowing eyes, Xhareen nudged the other girls. They each nodded. They knew it was time to act.

“Stay behind, Avi,” Gamheen whispered. “Stay behind our mother in case she needs your light.”

Quietly, the girls snuck around while the mothers held off against the predators. The predators were fierce, but they could only see with their eyes. But the people could see with their minds and that had always made them the cleverest hunters.

 

Xhareen lined up to the west of the predators and Gamheen fell into place across from her. Naveen went to the north, and Samheen ran in from the south.

Xhareen began to blow so hard, the Head Wolf was knocked off his feet. Naveen blew out a wave of heat that singed the Head Cat’s thick, brown fur. Samheen sent a wave of cold that froze them both into place. Gamheen’s gift made it so she could make the air dance and shield the people from the effect of the blasts.

The mothers were amazed, even though they knew their girls were all special. They had never seen anything like this.

They kept their torches pointed at the two ferocious killers and shouted, “Leave us be!”

“If you let us go,” the Head Wolf cried, “we will leave!”

“We promise,” the Head Cat agreed as she shivered.

Gamheen nodded, and the others stopped.

Before they could blink their glowing eyes, both predators sprang at the mothers, teeth bared and nostrils flaring.

Xhareen ran up and began to blow, hoping to knock them off the path. But she blew so hard, she blew out the torches. The mothers dropped the dying sticks on the ground and scattered in the dark.

Naveen and Samheen ran to their mothers and grabbed the bundles of tinder from within their packs. But Samheen was so afraid, she accidentally turned her bundle into a block of ice. She dropped it, and it shattered into a thousand and one pieces.

Naveen grabbed the other, but she was so afraid, she set it on fire and burned it to ash in a second.

Gamheen ran to her sister and whispered, “It’s time, little one.”

Avireen nodded. She turned her face toward the growling wolf and the spitting cat. “We will not die in darkness, ever,” she declared.

And as she did, her hands began to glow and then her arms and her chest and then all the way down to her feet and up to her head, shining through her clothes and the khori deerskin wrap that covered her eyeless face.

The wolf and the cat stopped chasing the mothers and turned toward the glowing light. Before anyone could breathe again, they pounced on her.

Avireen did not move. She just kept shining, her arms extended as if to reach across all the land.

Her mother screamed. Xhareen and the other girls jumped on the snarling beasts. Xhareen blew into the Head Wolf’s ear and when he was stunned, she snapped his neck. Gamheen and Samheen jumped onto the Head Cat and covered her skin and filled her bones with ice and fire until she moved no more.

 

 

When the beasts were dead, Avireen lay on the ground. She was still glowing and smiling like the sun.

The mothers began to cry. The girls began to cry. The beasts beyond in the darkness began to howl and caterwaul.

“Don’t cry, Mummy. Don’t cry, aunties. Don’t cry sister and my cousins. I trust the sky gods and so should you.”

And with that, Avireen and her light began to fade away.

But before she was gone, Gamheen found the last bundle of kindling in her mother’s pack. She called Naveen over to touch the bundle – gently this time – and quickly got a small fire going. Xhareen gathered twigs and handed them to her until the small flame was strong enough to touch the torches into it and light them.

When all four torches were lit, the last light that was Avireen disappeared forever.

Though they tried very hard not to, the women and the girls cried. Gamheen and her mother wailed and sang. When they found their voices again, the others began to sing, too.

First, they sang sad songs. The people had traveled a long time and knew much sadness and loss along the way. They sang for hours, stopping now and then to cry all over again.

Finally, Xhareen spoke up. “Mummy, aunties, cousins. We should stop singing sad songs.” And with that, she began to sing a battle song. The people had traveled a long time and fought many fights along their journey. Xhareen knew all the battle songs.

The women and the girls joined in. The sadness left their faces and their hearts. They sang louder and louder until they were shouting at the dark sky.

The predators, denied their quarry and afraid without their leaders to guide them, ran off into the endless night.

When the last of the predators was gone, the singing stopped. The women all stood up and linked hands with their daughters.

They began to laugh and as they did, they felt warmth growing behind them. They turned to see the sun had begun to rise.

Gamheen looked to the place where her sister had been, and found a small stone, glistening from within with golden flakes. No one else saw her, so she placed the stone in her pocket and said nothing.

“So that was it. Avireen’s power was light,” Naveen said as the sun pulled itself up entirely from the horizon.

“No,” Xhareen replied. “Hers was the gift of hope.”

And all the mothers and all the daughters agreed. Though they were sad, the littlest among them had given all the people life again.

They returned to the village and told the others how hope brought an end to the long, dark night. From that day forward, the People never doubted the strength of their daughters.

And they never lost hope.

 

 

Centuries later, the people remembered the story, and every child could tell you the names of the four winds:

Naveen, the North Wind: Harbinger of Summer

Xhareen, the West Wind: Bringer of Storms

Samheen, the South Wind: Harbinger of Winter

Gamheen, the East Wind: Bringer of Calm

And Avireen, became known as the Daughter of the Sun, the Giver of Hope.

 

 


	52. Hope Is The Embrace Of The Unknown

When Noufar finished the story, a hush fell over the group in the temple. Hope might inspire people, but facing the terrible cost of that hope usually gave them pause, too.

Vector was the first to speak. “We know many stories in the Hive. We know many sacrifices. They always humble us.”

“Your parents certainly named you well, Xhareen,” Zavaa added.

When Zavaa turned to look at her friend, she realized Xhareen was no longer in the temple.

“Balls,” Vette cursed quietly. “I’d better go look for her.” She was halfway to the back doorway when Xhareen came through. She had removed the blue robes and exchanged her red scarf for her visor to cover her face.

She walked up, hugged her grandmother and said a few words in Miralukese. Then she turned to the assembled group and announced: “I am ready to begin my life again.”

It was an accepted way to officially end the ritual. And everyone in the room, Xhareen included, wanted it to be true.

 

~~~~~

Xhareen knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, much less herself. She still needed to grieve, but her grief could be temporarily shoved aside because without Malavai to share it with, it could never be complete.

She knew she wasn’t fooling her friends or her family. Still, she shared a warm and sad goodbye with her grandparents, who turned down her invitation to come to Dromund Kaas.

“My dear, this is our home. Anywhere else, we’re aliens, we’re always going to be aliens. We’re old, and it’s just easier for us to stay,” Nama said. “And besides, we need to be here in case your parents come back.”

She was right. Nama was always right. Xhareen just wished she’d felt “alien” that day on Dromund Kaas, after she and Jaesa had defeated Vengean, when she walked into the clinic and got that contraceptive shot. If Dr. Lokin’s theory was correct, that had been the source of all this pain. The nurse assumed Xhareen was human, and Xhareen assumed it didn’t matter.

But she knew now, Wrath or not, she was an alien in the Empire. She had power and the power to change things.

And because she was an alien, this happened. It all happened. Grieving or not, she had to keep moving.

 

~~~~~

On the flight back, Kayda pulled her aside in the galley while Xhareen was walking out with a cup of tea.

“Listen, if you need to talk, just come to me, OK?”

“I know you’re still concerned, Kayda, and I’m grateful. I know there’s still a long way to go.” 

The two women sat down, and remained silent for a few moments. 

“Kay, I need you to know I’m not mad at your brother. There are glaciers on Hoth that move faster than his heart does. I accepted that months ago.” 

She shrugged. “It’s part of his charm.” 

Kayda laughed so loud, it reverberated throughout the small room. “You’re right. I shouldn’t laugh, but I guess you’re right.” 

“I’m going to try to contact him again, and I would appreciate it if you all stay out of it still. I don’t want him feeling boxed in and forced to make a decision.” 

“Are you worried he’s going to file for divorce?” 

Xhareen sighed. “I’m hoping that because he hasn’t done it already, he’s waiting for me. And I’m not going to do anything. I still have a war to fight, and I am still willing to wait for him to come around.” 

Kayda had never felt that way about anyone before. If things didn’t work out, she was usually the one to bail. If someone bailed on her, she took it hard for a week or two, drank a lot, and then moved on. 

“This sounds horrible, but I envy you,” she said. 

“How so?” Xhareen asked. 

“I’ve never been in a situation like you and Mal.” 

Xhareen sat her cup down. “It does take a certain kind of relationship to hurt each other so much, I suppose. If we hadn’t loved so deeply, we couldn’t have caused each other so much pain. 

“If I could give you any advice, Kay, it’s that you need to be ready, and when you are, the relationship you need finds you. But you, my dear, need to make sure you don’t let it slip by.” 

 

~~~~~

The shuttle had three small rooms on the lower deck, one with tables and chairs, one with a holoprojector and comfortable lounge seating and one with mat-covered floors that had been purposed for a workout room. 

Zavaa and Vette holed up in the table room. Zavaa didn’t bring the Black Codex with her, but she and Vette found plenty to talk about, hovering over Vette’s portable rig. 

Vector and Jaesa were sparring in the workout room, while Rissa and the baby watched. Everyone else was watching an old comedy holo about the residents of a decrepit Kaas City towerblock in the days before the Great Galactic War. Xhareen couldn’t remember the title, or why that subject matter was even funny, but the laughs coming from the room seemed to support its comedic value. 

Xhareen went to watch Vector and Jaesa. She sat on the floor next to Rissa and little Malavai practically jumped into her arms. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, he doesn’t normally do that,” Rissa said. 

“It’s OK, Rissa, really. We’re family. Aren’t we, little man?”

 

~~~~~

**Above Ilum**

Back on his ship and fully recovered, Malavai thought about what his mother had said. Perhaps it was time he and Xhareen at least talked. He hated the irony of close relationships, the fact that the person best suited to discussing your problems was the one with whom you were having the problem. 

He had been truly touched that Xhareen named the child Avireen. He had loved that story, the one that, to him, confirmed the beauty and the joy of loving a warrior woman like her. That all people could have hope when they needed it most. He had forgotten for a moment that it was an old folk tale, and not something that had actually happened to his Xhareen. 

“My Xhareen,” he said out loud to his empty ready room. 

He turned to his personal comm station and prepared an outgoing email: 

**To: Xhareen**

**From: Malavai**

**Re: Please read this**

Xhareen, 

As you have likely figured out, I am on a top-secret assignment and am only just now able to send you this correspondence. It pains me that I missed our child’s services and I will forever regret it, please know that. 

I am contacting you now to tell you this: I am sorry. I am genuinely, thoroughly sorry for my behavior in the hospital bay. I want to explain why I said those things, why I was in that state but, as it was before between us, I feel as though my explanations sound like excuses. And you deserve so much better than excuses. 

When I got to the headquarters in Coronet City, I heard that you had died, but that's an excuse. I was late taking my stims in the waiting room, but that’s an excuse. I spent hours I could not even count, waiting for word, tearing my soul apart with worry and grief. Kayda told me they couldn't save the baby and I snapped. That, too, is an excuse. 

I know I told you I enjoyed our harrowing lifestyle but I have come to learn that I am a fraud. Since returning to regular military duty, my life is generally regulated and proscribed. We follow schedules. I issue orders, and they are followed. Even though there are battles, my people are disciplined and well trained. They survive. 

Yes, I had a lot of freedom, and you in my arms, but there was much about our life together that was beyond my control. And since what happened with Baras, and now what's happened between us, I realize I must maintain control over my life. 

I still want you in it, though. That has not changed in the least.

There must be some way for us to work things through. This is the life and career I always wanted, except for one thing: I am lonely without you. I understand that you didn't want to speak with me at first, and I was simply panicked at the thought of talking to you. That's why I broke off that holocall. I panicked. In my addled state, I thought you might try to kill me. Which is inexcusable of me. 

Enough time has passed that perhaps you can at least entertain the idea of communicating. Even if you wish to say “Goodbye, Quinn, please walk out the nearest airlock and leave me be.” I won't do myself any harm, but if you say it, I won't contact you again. 

But as I recall nearly every night in my dreams, your last words as I stormed away were that you loved me. Even after I had been such a cruel jerk, you were not afraid to express your love. 

I may be a jerk and a lot of bad things, but my love, I am not stupid. No rational man walks away from a love like you. Wherever my sanity might have flown in those hours waiting for word about your condition, it has since returned. 

I am here, I am alive, I am enjoying the career I always wanted. I am in control of myself. And I love you, always. 

I may not be able to be the captain of your ship anymore but please, Xhareen, allow me to be the captain of your heart once again. Otherwise, I am afraid I will have to keep sending syrupy love holos until you relent. You never gave up on me. It’s time I return the favor. 

Please contact me. The frequency will follow this message. Only you can use it, and only for encrypted text messages. 

Major Malavai Quinn, and always your captain, signing off.

 

ps: Thank you for naming our daughter Avireen. She will always be my beacon of hope.

 

[a/n: as he wrote [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4757990/chapters/23704407).]

 

~~~~~

A message came across Lt. Tamsyn Kirrika’s workstation. The major was sending an email to his wife. She waited two minutes, then checked to make sure her bot had worked. 

It had. The message looped as though it had been sent. It returned to a queue that only she knew about and could access. As far as the major or anyone would know, the message had been sent and received. 

She had set up the bot so she wouldn’t have to read or listen to his communiques, a violation of her orders from her employer. But she couldn’t bear the thought of knowing his pain. And the bot protocols were Republic in origin, so if it were discovered, it would be thought espionage, not treason. Or maybe some Sith fuckery. 

Either of those things seemed so much more likely than the mess she was involved in anyway. Tamsyn had considered running a full sweep on her employer to get a better handle on what she had gotten herself into. But the woman, and even the brother, genuinely scared her. 

Corporate types were so powerful and sneaky. Tamsyn preferred working with pirates and low-lifes. They didn’t pay as much, but they generally followed a code. And if they were going to stab you in the back, you probably deserved it, or you should at least have seen it coming. Corporate types threw you away like so much trash. 

She was determined not to become corporate trash. She had to figure some way to prove her worth going forward. 

She hadn’t thought of anything yet. But she would.

 

~~~~~

**Dromund Kaas**  

The Willsaams had a huge meal prepared for the travelers when they returned. The mood was much lighter than at the visitors’ center on Covenant, but it was still far from the atmosphere Xhareen had hoped she would have for this, her first feast in her first home. 

Drayden, Ellys and Rissa ate quickly and took their leave. Pierce said he was going to spend his last day of leave tracking down his sister. Dr. Lokin excused himself to go check on his laboratory preparations. As it was day time and not raining, Broonmark declared he was going to go size up the hunting possibilities in the forest land behind the estate. 

Jaesa said she was going to go spend some time with her parents and Kayda said she wanted to check in at military headquarters, although she really wanted to check in on her auburn-haired crush. 

Xhareen suggested the rest of them adjourn to a nearby room with its gas fireplace and have a drink. 

They discussed Xhareen’s plans for renovating the main house for a short time, when it became obvious Vette had something to say by her inability to sit still on what was arguably one of the most comfortable couches Xhareen had ever sat on. 

Zavaa, too, shifted on the loveseat next to Vector. 

“OK, both of you, out with it,” Xhareen demanded. 

“OK,” Vette started, clearing her throat and gulping the sweet wine in her glass. “I really hate saying this, but Xhareen, I can’t live here on this planet. Everywhere I go, people look at me like I should be on a leash. They whisper. Some don’t even bother to whisper. A kriffing taxi droid wouldn’t take my pass until Jaesa swiped hers first.” 

Xhareen had already figured out where this was going, but she let Vette finish. When she was done ranting, Vette got up and went to the nearest window. She was crying. 

Xhareen went to her and they hugged. Even before Vette could form the question, Xhareen answered it. “Yes, Vette, it’s alright if you go with Zavaa and Vector. I will miss you terribly, and you are always welcome in this home, but I understand.” 

“I … don’t … want … to leave … you … but I can’t … stay,” Vette sobbed. 

“I really could use Vette’s help untangling all this data I’ve been going over,” Zavaa said. “It’s so much, even the Black Codex is having trouble sorting it out. And besides, I am leaving Dr. Lokin with you after all.” 

“And for that, I am grateful, Zavaa. All I ask is that you keep me informed. We all must fight for the Empire in our own ways.” 

Then she turned to Vette and said softly, “We can’t fight to change the Empire if there’s no Empire to fight for. We might defeat the Republic six times over before we defeat the ignorance here at home, but we cannot give up either battle. I promise you, my dearest companion, I will fight for you.”

 

~~~~~

**Imperial Military Headquarters**  

Kayda checked in at the personnel center, then the quartermasters, and though she was still stuffed from the huge midday meal, she went to the main cafeteria where she had spent those pleasant breaks watching and waiting for the auburn-haired woman. 

As she was walking to an open table with caff in hand, she saw Pierce. He was sitting, back to her, and clearly talking to someone. Except whoever it was, their entire body was obscured by his large frame. Either that, or he was having an animated conversation with himself -- and Kayda knew that wasn’t the case. 

Eager for any kind of interaction, even if it was to listen to war buddies sharing battle stories, she went to sit with him. As she negotiated around the table behind him, she realized he was talking to the auburn-haired woman. Her auburn-haired woman. 

Her heart sank to her knees for a second, thinking she had misinterpreted their glances back during the weeks Kayda had been here for re-training … and she hadn’t been wrong about things like that since she was a teenager. 

She walked to the table despite her wobbling knees and went right up to Pierce. “Captain, I didn’t realize you were coming here!” 

“Kayda! You won’t believe this. All I did was type the name in a terminal and I found my sister!” He pointed his hands at the woman and Kayda could now see, as they sat so close, the familial resemblance. 

“ _SISTER_!” Kayda screamed inside her head. 

“I was hoping we’d finally get to meet,” the woman said, with just the slightest hint of a Ziost accent. 

“Oh, where are my manors?” Pierce interrupted. “Dr. Kayda Quinn, this is my sister, Esmiala Pierce. She’s a trauma counselor here at HQ.” 

Kayda extended her hand. “I am very glad to finally meet you.”

 

~~~~~

**Xhareen’s estate**  

Zavaa said they would stay the night and the three of them would leave in the morning. They’d be heading first to Nar Shaddaa, the epicenter of all things secret and shady. 

When she was finally alone, Xhareen went up to her suite and used the small holoterminal there.

 

“Malavai,

I’m hoping that you open this recording. I’m hoping that you can do so without fear. 

When I called you right after getting out of hospital, and you answered with that look of fear and disgust on your face, I couldn’t accept it. I shut myself away for weeks, barely aware of the passing of time. I’d probably still be locked away if it weren’t for the intervention of your family and of course, the sad news I know you have received. 

Please, Malavai, I am begging for your forgiveness. Even if I can never forgive myself for allowing our child to be harmed, for losing her before she even had a chance at life. Please do not think I in any way am asking you to absolve me of my guilt for what I have done. 

I did not think I was breaking my promise to stop fighting, but I allowed myself to be caught up in it again anyway and that is unforgivable. And an innocent life was lost because of it. 

It pains me that you think I am a monster, but I won't try to talk you out of it, either. I am what I am. If that makes me a monster, then that is what I must be. You know I do everything for the same reason you do -- for the Empire. 

But I have learned something in these bleak weeks. I love the Empire, but I love you more, and I should have remembered that. I should have put you first, where you belong. I thought it would look terrible for the Hero of Corellia to say no to a pleading child; I should have thought about how you would look, thinking I had dishonored my promise to you. If I had only waited an hour … 

If you still feel anything for me, please contact me. Even if it is to say goodbye. It will hurt, I won’t lie. But it hurts more not knowing. 

You can always reach me on this channel and if not, you know how to contact Zavaa. Vette is leaving with Zavaa and Vector in the morning and this house will be that much emptier without you and her in it. 

If nothing else, please contact Vette. She misses her favorite Captain Starchypants. 

As I do, too. Please get in touch.”

 

Xhareen hit send and shut down the machine.

 

~~~~~

Lt. Kirrika’s bot had a reverse function, too. And it did its job once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title was inspired by the work of writer/historian Rebecca Solnit.


	53. The Silent Nemesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING for graphic descriptions of violence, industrial animal slaughter and graphic language (one utterance).

 

Slitting a human’s neck is harder than you might imagine. It’s nothing like what you have seen in holodramas.

It’s not the most elegant way to kill, nor is it the easiest. But if you truly loathe your target, it’s immensely satisfying to watch them bleed out, and if you’ve planted your blade correctly, be unable to scream or even speak.

You need to realize, this takes practice to do correctly. Your dagger must be perfectly sharp, perfectly free of nicks or defects. You must be able to sneak up on your quarry from behind, grab them so they cannot shout out or wrestle free, and make your pass as quickly as possible. Without hesitation or doubt.

Then, you have the pleasure of watching them die. Death comes in a few minutes or so, if you have struck the carotid arteries and jugular veins with enough momentum to carry you through the trachea, the dark venous blood mingling with the bright arterial spray, painting the scene. Again, if you have done your job correctly, you could be rewarded with the thrill of listening to your prey choke on their own blood.

As I said, it is glorious.

I learned my technique from my father. He was neither killer nor butcher, but a most exacting architect of slaughterhouse devices used by nerf farmers on our home world of Alderaan. He was also a keen observer of the big, dumb beasts. Since he never showed a moment of kindness or engagement with his wife or any of my brothers or me, I cannot say he developed his creations as machines of mercy.

No, he preferred efficiency above all, such that when I, an angry young tyke, told him he’d make a fine Imperial military officer, he did not strike me for my defiance. Instead, he nodded his head and patted me on the shoulder. That was it.

His creations were huge durasteel cylinders that held the beasts still while a mechanically controlled vibro-blade drew across their massive necks, deep enough to slice through the larynx and trachea, never so deep as to sever the giant neck completely. There was no need for the brutality and indignity of shocking them into submission; it was considered merciful to just let the blood and life slip away.

The animal would be held, the blood collected for various uses, including a disgusting sausage the nobility prized. Then the cylinder would rotate and slide the massive carcass down a ramp onto a conveyor to be processed and commodified.

He took me to see his handiwork in action. He smiled at its bloody pursuit like I had never seen him smile before. I felt insignificant around the beasts, around the cylinders of death and around his indifference to his family. The stench of blood and shit and disregard has never left my nostrils.

I never ate meat again.

Well. Back to our lesson.

Now, if your target is larger than you, stronger than you or prone to shrieking, piercing them first with a paralytic stim might be called for. It adds some seconds to your task, but as I have said, this is not going to be a stab-and-run process anyway.

You need to grab them firmly, perhaps not with the grip of durasteel, but your prey is best served if you can make that initial contact before their muscles tighten and you have to cut even deeper.

I should emphasize that this is not my preferred killing method. It’s much faster and quieter to kill your target by plunging the knife in their throat or their ribcage. I would not try this on a Trandoshian. If you must kill up close, there are a dozen other methods I prefer.

 

_A clash of metal on metal, a door swung open by a remote switch, a combat droid appears. “Prisoner 243-Vev-7, your mandatory outdoor recreation period has begun.”_

 

My reverie is broken, but this is what I dream of in prison. Full sessions of passing my craft on to the next generation of spies and assassins. For I have been both.

But in this Imperial prison, I am allowed no audience. No access to the Holonet. I never see my fellow prisoners here. My recreation period is 30 minutes in a walled cage, open only to the gray skies of Dromund Kaas.

The food is not bad; I’ve had worse. Dathomir comes to mind.

My first benefactor is gone. Of that I am certain. It has been weeks since I received any reassuring notices from him that my incarceration is merely a ruse and that, once his power base has been secured, he will release me from custody.

At least before his mysterious end he gave me the name of the Imperial twat who captured me, the one I eluded ten years ago.

Malavai Quinn.

Even thinking his name makes me shudder with disgust.

But I came to realize in the years after, most of which I spent working on behalf of the Republic at my benefactor’s request, that said scum granted me an enormous favor.

He’d come so close to capturing me in my favorite bolthole, a backroom in a Hutt brothel. Still, I got away. I let myself think I was invincible, impenetrable, immune to capture.

I tormented the Empire and its assets for a decade, protected by my benefactor, now a darth and a power all his own. Then, the same bootlick who nearly caught me on Nal Hutta grabs me on a shuttle heading away from Tatooine.

I had thought myself the apex predator for so long, I forgot I could be brought down by a mere germ.

These months – has it been a year already? – in these gray walls, I have learned otherwise. I have had time to reflect on every mission, every deception, every kill. And I am better for it. I will study for this kill as I have never studied before and I will trap Malavai Quinn before he even knows I’m coming.

Then I will watch with glee as that patrician blood leaks out from his privileged veins and he paints the walls with my vengeance.

It will happen this time. Because what my dearly departed darth friend never knew is that I had more than one benefactor. What competent independent operator wouldn’t?

And as soon as I am free of this place, I will head his way and see if he can assist me in my bloody revenge.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I did do quite a bit of research on throat slitting from a few medical and military sources, but this is still stylized for fiction. I'm neither a doctor, a coroner, a soldier or an assassin myself. :-)


	54. The Last Face I Look Upon

**At Xhareen's estate, Dromund Kaas**

Though she couldn't say she felt better, Xhareen did feel an enormous urge to be useful again. She wasn't sure what her place was anymore, other than being behind flashing light sabers in the heat of a fight. She had heard nothing from The Hand for weeks now and was convinced she had just been a convenient tool to stop Baras, no longer of any use to them. Which was probably for the best.

Yet, the Dark Council still recognized her as the Emperor's Wrath and she intended to do whatever she could to help the Empire win this war she had started.

It had been three weeks since Vette, Zavaa and Vector left. Now that things were quiet, she was beginning to feel more attuned to the planet's energy, like she had been nearly two years ago when she came here fresh from Korriban. When Baras gave her leave to spend more than two months with the Revanites, who saw beyond light and dark and helped her develop her power beyond even what she had learned on Korriban and the four years she spent training in secret with Tremel and his faction.

She woke every morning and trained hard for hours, sometimes alone and sometimes with Jaesa. Then she stopped to eat and went over estate business with the Willsaams. After that, she might go hunting with Broonmark or back to training, often with Kayda joining her and Jaesa. She redirected all the sadness and loneliness she still felt into making them both better fighters. Kayda was surprisingly good at it, too.

The business plans were going well. Since she was happy that this house was on its way to becoming a home, they had begun discussing what to do with the once-working farm she had also inherited. Dromund Kaas needed food, beyond what one farm could provide, but Xhareen asked them to start investigating how to begin growing enough food and raising enough livestock to feed the staff she would need to run both places.

The Willsaams didn't blink when she said she intended to use non-slave labor, but she saw the concern cross Kayda's face when she happened to overhear a discussion about how to transition to paying wages. She said nothing until they were alone, later.

"You don't think that's too much too soon, do you, Xhareen?" Kayda asked.

"Kay, I cannot have slaves. I cannot put another sentient being through what I went through. Even when I was rich and famous, I was still owned by another being and I vowed never to support that again. I'll throw all this away and take an apartment in the city before I force someone to work for me without paying wages. I want people to see it's possible. I mean, I'm not going to advertise it, but I'm not going to hide it, either."

"I'm just looking out for you. We don't own slaves, either. But the money that keeps us is more ephemeral,” she said. “My great-grandfather sold off the last of the businesses that relied on unskilled labor, though not for moral reasons. He thought there was more money and security in high tech and medical equipment."

"Was that the Quinn side, or your mother's?"

"My mother's. My father's side were either military, civil administrators or advocates. A few doctors. My grandparents actually knew each other before my parents started dating."

Xhareen was about to question her more on the Quinn family history when Parvin Willsaam came into the room.

"My lord, you have a call from the Citadel."

Xhareen went over to the holocomm in the corner of the room. The image of Darth Marr soon appeared.

"Wrath, a large contingent of Republic ships is headed straight for Dromund Kaas. Come to the Citadel immediately."

The holo went dark.

"Should I ..." Kayda began.

"Yes, we're all going," Xhareen answered.

She called for Jaesa and Broonmark. They geared up in a few minutes and Toovee had already called a taxi to take them to the city's heart.

~~~~~

The Citadel was abuzz, even down at the Mandalorian stronghold. The Mandos had a standing agreement with the Dark Council to lead the defense of the non-military sections of Kaas City. They were deploying, shuttle after shuttle, taxi after taxi, to their assigned sections. Agents and fire teams were pouring out of Sith Intelligence headquarters as well.

An air of controlled chaos greeted Xhareen and her team inside the Sith Sanctum. They were met by a female Sith who introduced herself only as one of Darth Marr’s staff. She seemed vaguely familiar to Xhareen, but now was not the time to try and sort it out.

“Follow me to the war chamber,” she said. She took off, running, and the team followed.

The entire council had assembled, some via holo. They were arguing about how to meet the incoming Republic fleet.

“Throw everything we have at them!” Darth Ravage urged.

“We need more intel. Don’t be such a hasty fool, Ravage,” Malgus replied.

“Enough!” Darth Marr said, standing up from his seat. “We will wait another eight minutes, see if the military can provide us with intel but after that, we attack first. I will not let these vermin touch this planet.”

The others kept discussing as Marr approached Xhareen and her team.

“I need a situation report, Darth Marr,” she said.

He briefed her on the number of ships, the route it was believed they had taken in and the relative strength of the immediate Imperial fleet above the planet.

He was still talking when he suddenly leaned forward on the display panel, his head down and his arms shaking. Before she knew it, Xhareen felt a wave of nausea run from her stomach to her head and back again. _So familiar_. Had she lived through this moment before?

“Darth Marr,” she whispered. “Do you feel it? This is all a distraction.”

He nodded. “Go, Wrath. You know where they are headed. I will get the Fleet mobilized and your people can assist if any of the enemy land.”

Xhareen turned to leave the war chamber, but Jaesa stopped her. “Master, I should go with you …”

Xhareen shook her head. “I know what’s there, and only I can face it. I still don’t trust that they won’t try to kidnap you. Stay here. You and Broonmark take up defensive positions outside the chamber. Tell Kayda to fall in behind you.”

“Understood. Be careful, Xhareen,” Jaesa said. Xhareen hugged her. “I’ll return shortly,” she said.

Xhareen ran out to the sanctum’s exit and up to the taxi stand, pushing aside two Sith who were getting in to the next taxi. “Take me to Outpost Warden immediately, on the Council’s orders!” she demanded.

~~~~~

At Outpost Warden, Xhareen grabbed a speeder bike and took it as close to the Dark Temple as she dared. She stowed the bike in a ditch and ventured the last half kilometer on foot.

She stuck to the shadows cast by the remnants of walls and structures that once formed a mighty complex vital to the Sith religion. The vast, broken plazas in front of the temple were empty, but she could sense a strong, familiar presence and she wanted to be the one doing the surprising.

Then she saw him, just outside the one and only entrance to the Dark Temple itself. The Sith she met on Corellia, who had saved her from the Green Jedi but warned her of some ongoing, important mission he was part of.

Lord Scourge. The turncoat Wrath. Somehow, this must be the endgame of his scheming on Corellia.

He saw her just as she shouted out his name. He turned to her, igniting his antique red saber, its light still bright and deadly.

She drew both her blades, but did not attack. He had told her she would probably defeat him in a fight, but if she didn’t have to find out the truth of those words, she didn’t want to.

“Lord Scourge, stand aside. I must enter the temple, and you know it.”

He squared off his stance, ready to strike. “I cannot do that, and you know it.”

Xhareen moved in closer. They both turned, keeping their focus, just as they both had been taught from an early age how to do. Two lifelong fighters, brutes, blunt instruments for their causes. It pained her that Scourge had defected, that she might have to kill him without ever knowing why.

“Please, Lord Scourge. I am sworn to protect him, no matter how I personally feel about him.”

“Having doubts, are we, Wrath?”

“Not about the Empire’s right to survive. Not about resisting the Republic’s goal of eradicating us all.”

He snorted. “I checked the SIS file on you. You were once property of the Hutts. A common pit fighter. And of course, an alien. How can you support a system that supports slavery and hates you for who you really are?”

“Just as I checked out the archives on you, Scourge,” Xhareen shot back, her blades unwavering. “Your family owned slaves. Human slaves with Sith blood. That was a long time ago, I know. What’s important now is the future. And I’m going to make sure we have one. The Empire will come around on slavery and xenophobia. It won’t have any choice. So stop trying to hold me back. Let me go in there.”

“I cannot do that. I am sworn to let Gislaran fulfill her destiny.”

Gislaran. So that was the Jedi’s name. A ripple of emotion … _was that love?_ … crossed Scourge’s face like a grimace from a sudden blow to the abdomen.

“You care about her,” Xhareen said, more as an expression of fact than of any attempt to shove him off guard.

“As much as a 300-year-old fool who cannot feel anything can.”

“I won’t kill her, I give you my word.”

“Of course you won’t. You won’t get anywhere near her.”

Xhareen extinguished both of her light sabers and holstered them. Perhaps the threat of violence was not the way. “Then we both go in there together.”

He shook his massive head. “No. I cannot resist him. If he were to urge me to kill her, I would have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Scourge.”

“That’s a privilege you were granted as Wrath that I was not. Vitiate empowered me personally, touched me with his foul hand, marked me with his stench for eternity. You were merely a stand-in.”

“I am nothing _mere_. If you won’t let me in, I will have to fight you. I will end your miserable existence and I will prevent that Jedi from doing whatever it is you think she can do to an immortal being.”

“Nothing is immortal. No one deserves it less than Vitiate, either. If you only knew the depths of his evil, how he got his power, you’d tear this all down and leave it for the gundarks.”

There was truth in what he was saying. Xhareen could feel it even if she did not have the facts. But this was her home now. This was where she trained, where she first touched the power of the Dark Side, where she learned that passion did not mean evil, where she first learned who she was.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I cannot go into all the details. You must trust me. He wants to extinguish all life in the galaxy to fuel his immortality.”

“That’s ludicrous. It makes no sense. He’s already immortal. Why would he …”

“You have to trust me, Sith. I would not lie about something so dire.”

Absurd or not, Scourge believed what he was saying. Xhareen knew she wouldn’t be able to reason with him, and regretted putting away her weapons. He still held his blade at the ready. If she went for her weapons, he’d get a free shot at her.

But she also knew she was faster than he was, so before she could even blink again, she jumped into the air and cartwheeled over him.

He was faster than she anticipated.

Scourge grabbed Xhareen by the wrist. She felt a flash of pain and ecstasy, unable to tell one from the other, then fell to her knees.

“It begins,” he said. Though Xhareen might have been able to break free, some small part of her let him keep his hold on her. She was to bear witness, not fight. Whatever was about to happen had to happen. It made her sick and afraid, but she relented to fate and to the enormous red hand around her wrist.

He wasn’t trying to subdue her, sensing her surrender. They were, both of them, part of this moment and now, each knew their part.

Scourge’s connection to the Jedi gave him a near- holovid-quality view of what was happening inside the temple, and now Xhareen could see it in her mind – and feel it in her bones – too.

The Jedi, Gislaran, was fighting multiple apparitions of Vitiate, covered in a dark purple robe. She parried all their lightning attacks with her dual blades and defeated them quickly.

Then the Emperor spoke, his voice full of bemusement and scorn. “My life spans millennia. Legions have risen to test me. What does one Jedi, one touched by the Dark Side, think she can do to me?”

“If you won’t surrender and come with me to Tython, then I will kill you,” she said, her voice calm and steady.

Vitiate laughed. “You discern but a fraction of reality. Beyond these stars exist other galaxies, other worlds, other beings.

“I will experience or ignore them as I wish. I will spend eternity becoming everything: a farmer, an artist, a simple man. And when the last living thing in the universe finally dies, I will enjoy peace and wait for the cycle to begin again.”

“Why can’t you do these things now, and leave us alone?” she asked.

“There is no death, there is only the Force, or have you forgotten that from your training?” he sneered. “There is only the Force and I am its master. Bow to me, and I will show you things your tiny mind cannot begin to imagine. The things you rejected when you defied me.”

Gislaran moved closer, but stayed in fight stance. “One last chance. Come with me or face my blades. I see your strength ebbing.”

Again, Vitiate laughed, the sound echoing around the chamber like a caged tornado, more potent than his lightning attack.

Outside the temple, Xhareen could feel it, the reverberations corrupting her bones like cancer. She wrestled briefly with Scourge. “Don’t fight it, Wrath,” he said, his voice soothing. “You bear witness, remember?”

Back in the temple, the laughter subsided. “You harness immense power, Jedi, but you lack the purity of will to direct it. Perhaps it is that the darkness has touched you, and you embraced it. And yet, you have no idea how to utilize it, how to let the conflict between the light and dark in you power your blade. You could learn much from my Wrath. Not that used up traitor, Scourge. My other Wrath. I should have introduced the two of you when you were my guest.

“But time is growing short, Gislaran. My ascendance is inevitable. A day, a year, a millennium … it matters not to me. I hold the patience of stone and the will of stars.”

As he was bloviating, Gislaran was harnessing her strength. Vitiate must have been blinded to it because she was, as he had surmised, not pure. He was pure evil, always poised to fight pure good. He had once thought he'd turned her evil, ignoring the struggle within her. She called upon that turmoil and lashed out at him in a whirlwind of her blades before he could open his mouth again.

When she was done, his body lay on the floor, face down. He raised himself up enough to speak. “I will not be contained. I cannot be redeemed. Death is all that remains and you, insignificant Jedi, will not kill me.” He began to glow purple and before Gislaran could run to him, he was nothing but a sickly carcass on the temple floor.

Xhareen cried out and Scourge let go of her wrist. His holo chimed.

The Jedi spoke: “It’s done, Scourge. He’s dead.”

Scourge was not convinced. “But I felt nothing. You haven’t killed him. Strike! Do it now, Gislaran!”

Purple-black smoke swirled around the Jedi, animated and malicious. “I will not be your trophy. When I die, I will choose how and everything dies with me,” it said, and then disappeared.

The temple shook, and while Scourge was distracted, Xhareen sprinted past him. She ran like she had never run before, the Force propelling her like a rocket booster strapped to her back. She got to the very back of the temple, past where she had recovered the Ravager for Baras, back to the dark heart of all it meant to be Sith.

The Jedi was running out of the back chamber, and was quickly met by a Republic T1 unit that had to be as old as Scourge.

Both women instinctively drew their blades, and as they got within striking distance, began to circle.

“He’s dead, Sith. Do what you want to me. I’m not going without a fight, but I know you have an unfair advantage in this evil place.”

Scourge had caught up to them. “Gislaran, no!” he shouted. “We have to leave.”

Once again, wise or not, Xhareen quieted her weapons but this time did not holster them.

“Go,” she said, “before I change my mind.”

Without looking back, Xhareen ran into the chamber as they fled.

The Emperor had managed to turn onto his back. He was coughing up blood and bile and black Force energy.

“Come to me, my Wrath,” he called out. “This body is dying. I remain, but I must leave this place behind.”

Xhareen ran over to him. She wasn’t sure why. She should just let him perish alone for all the good he had done for his supposed people. She should stick her lightsaber through his chest, or maybe his head, and not be taken in by anything he had to say.

Something compelled her, however, to witness this ending. His ending.

She wished she had persuaded Scourge to tell whatever tale it was he knew about the origin of Vitiate’s power. She figured this body was just a shell, like the one on Voss, and that some Force essence of his would surely continue. _There is no death, only the Force._ He said it, just like the Jedi believed.

He beckoned her to move in closer to the wrinkled, tainted visage he wore. “Remove your mask, child. Let me see your true face.”

She obeyed. He smiled. “I have always had a fondness for your people,” he said, before a coughing fit overtook him.

Xhareen said nothing, but she did take hold of his hand.

“I need you to remember one thing: The future is not a river to carry us. It is the ocean in which we drown, if we are not prepared. Prepare yourself, Xhareen of the Miraluka. The universe is not done with either of us.”

He began to cough up blood and Force energy again. The end was near now.

“My Wrath,” he gasped. “Yours will always be the last face I look upon. Every time.”

And with that, he was gone.


	55. Bold Lies, Old Friends

 

**On board Gislaran’s ship**

Gislaran and Scourge shut themselves in the conference room to talk about what had happened in the temple.

Scourge closed his eyes, spread his hands and exhaled a cloud of blue smoke that spread out and hugged the edges of the room. It was a Force trick that must have been forgotten in the centuries since Scourge was trained, or it was a Dark Side power only, because Gislaran had never seen its like before meeting him. Every time he did it, she found herself stunned into silence.

“Now we may proceed in private,” he said. “Not even that apprentice of yours can listen in now.”

“Go ahead, Scourge. I know what you’re going to say, but have it out anyway,” Gislaran said.

“I won’t mince words. You must tell the Jedi Council he’s not dead, Gislaran. We must continue the hunt,” Scourge insisted.

The Twi’lek shook her head, letting her lekku undulate for emphasis. “No. I forbid it. The rest of the crew cannot know what happened on Dromund Kaas. We present a united front when I contact Master Shan. The Emperor is dead. I left his lifeless body on the floor of that temple. It’s the victory we all need right now.”

“I will not rest until he is ended, you know that,” Scourge said, conceding defeat. “If you and your council won’t help me, I suspect my successor as Wrath might.”

“You’d switch sides again?” Gislaran asked with a pained look on her face.

“I’d switch sides. I’d end both sides. I’ll do what I must to preserve this galaxy and see Vitiate dead, forever.”

~~~~~

**Sith Sanctum, Dromund Kaas**

Darth Marr paced back and forth in his private chambers. This time, when he offered Xhareen a drink of his family’s vintage Blood Wine, she drank it with gusto.

“Tell me. Did you feel anything when the Emperor died? Because I did not. No one else made note of it, either.”

She drained the rest of her first glass and the same Sith who had escorted her into the building earlier in the day refilled it. The woman -- tall, dark eyed and dark haired, age 40 at least but stunningly beautiful -- smiled at Xhareen and nodded.

“I felt a stab of pain when he was felled by the Jedi, but nothing when he finally died. It was the same when I struck down the body he was trapped in on Voss.”

Darth Marr nodded. “So he’s still out there, somewhere.”

“That would be my guess, my lord.” Xhareen was careful to remain formal with someone else in the room.

“You are the best hope we have of keeping track of him, Wrath.” And Marr returned the favor.

“I want to do more than sit here on Dromund Kaas and play lookout. Besides, I doubt Vitiate will ever return here. There was something about his soul … a restlessness. The things he said to the Jedi. I have no doubt he’s still out there. I have no doubt we’ll encounter him again, but I can’t waste time doing nothing.”

“You wish to return to the war, then? I thought, given what happened on Corellia, you might …”

Xhareen stood up. “That’s precisely why I need to fight, Darth Marr. If there is no Empire, I have no chance to recover what I’ve lost.”

“Far be it from me,” he said, bowing slightly, “to keep you from service. You are our mightiest warrior. You inspire others wherever you go. You work well with the military, even Regus, and that’s an accomplishment all its own.”

Xhareen smiled. “I will prove, even to men like Regus, that aliens are vital to the Empire’s health and welfare. Just give the word, and I am there.” She bowed formally to him.

“Perhaps one day, we will have an Empress again,” he said.

“It won’t be me,” she said, tossing off the compliment with a sudden shiver.

Marr stopped, too, as did his assistant. Some ripple in the Force had just cut through the room.

“Well,” Darth Marr said when the ripple dissipated. “I have to go wrangle the rest of the council back into agreement. Feel free to stay here as long as you like. I suspect you and my assistant have some catching up to do.”

When he had gone, Xhareen turned to the assistant. “You’re Nico, aren’t you? Nico Leross,” she said.

Nico Leross was Darth Neveris’s acolyte, the one who had led Xhareen and other five survivors of the massacre at Neveris’s compound to safety, then disappeared for almost 15 years. Except that Nico had been a young man back then.

“I go by Nica now, my lord.”

“You can drop the title. You’re the reason I’m alive today. I should be the one honoring you.” Xhareen began to sniffle.

“Xhareen,” Nica said.

They hugged. Nica began to cry.

“I always knew you’d survive, Xhareen. You have no idea how hard it was for me to leave you all there.”

“Where did you go? When did you …”

“I went to one of Darth Neveris’s relatives. Vengean didn’t bother to extend his rampage past the compound. He wanted to make a statement about alien influence, not Neveris himself. The relative, a cousin’s brother in law or something, was a surgeon who often lent his talents to the seedier crowd of Dromund Kaas.

“When he asked what new identity I wanted to assume, I told him: ‘My real self.’ ”

Xhareen stood back and sized up the taller woman. The surgeon had done well. But Nica had been close to all Neveris’s fosterlings, and the core of her personality, her essence, was familiar and comforting. That part of her could never change. “What did you do then?”

Nica relayed how she’d spent the next decade plus on the run, settling on unaligned worlds, running with a pirate crew, returning to Ziost and enlisting in the military.

“When I heard Vengean was dead, I returned to the Citadel. I didn’t stop until I got an audience with Darth Marr. Told him who I was, about Neveris and Gamheen. He immediately put me on his staff.

“You must know, I used the council’s resources to look for all of you I knew made it out that day. I guess you had gone to ground by then.”

“I know Myroli and Releah are still alive, serving as Sith. Kantiss enlisted in the military, too, but died in a skirmish before the war resumed. Do you know about the others?” Xhareen asked.

“Brakaz returned to Dathomir. He’s a major in their intelligence service. I don’t know what happened to Na’hema after she left the orphanage. She disappeared, by choice.”

Na’hema had always been an expert in stealth powers. Xhareen remembered one finals sparring match: Na’hema would phase in and out, until they were both worn down. Then she tripped Xhareen with her double-bladed training staff but when she went in for the killing strike, Xhareen Force shouted her backward. They went a few rounds in melee, until the instructor, Lord Terys, called the draw. It was the first time anyone had not fallen to Xhareen in a fight.

“She probably went back to Ryloth. I have a friend who can check. I guess we should let her stay disappeared, if that’s what she wants.”

Just then, Darth Marr returned.

“Wrath,” he said, “when we spoke on Korriban, I did not know you were one of Neveris’s fosterlings. It was only after I pondered why you wanted that empty plot in the jungle, and mentioned it to my assistant, that she helped me put it all together.

“Of course, she knew who you were and she has assured me that will be the last secret she keeps from me.”

Nica bowed, sincerely. “Yes, my lord.”

“And now,” Marr continued. “There is another matter of Baras’s that you have inherited.”

He punched some keys on the holo on a small conference table in the corner. An image of a robed figure, sitting cross legged on a bunk, materialized.

“Nomen Karr,” Xhareen said. “I just assumed Baras had killed him.”

“Baras had him tortured, briefly, but got caught up in his own machinations and the war and the trouble you gave him. He’s being kept as a high-value asset as we negotiate prisoner exchanges with the Republic.”

“How’s that going?” Xhareen asked.

“I’m afraid there are too few people on either side willing to negotiate much of anything at this juncture in the war. No one else on the council even realizes the value of having Nomen Karr in our possession.”

Xhareen couldn’t help but remember how broken he had been when she confronted him over Jaesa. She wondered how he would be if he could see his former apprentice now. She’d have to discuss the matter with Jaesa immediately.

“I should go visit him,” she said.

“If you wish. I will arrange it. There will be many security protocols you must follow, as the facility has recently had an escape,” Marr said. “That’s classified, by the way.”

Xhareen wasn’t worried about the escaped prisoner, so she just nodded.

A buzzer on Darth Marr’s desk began to sound. “My lord, the councilors are assembling in the main chambers,” Nica said.

“Wrath, we will speak again soon,” he said as he left the room.

Nica hugged Xhareen again after he was gone. “I hope we can spend time together soon.”

“Come visit me at my home as soon as you can,” she replied. The two women agreed. There was so much to catch up on, and Xhareen was glad to have a part of her past so close by.

 

~~~~~

**Back at Xhareen’s estate**

Jaesa paced back and forth in front of the picture window in the room Xhareen had made into an office for Quinn. It had the thickets walls and the sturdiest door. Maybe someday he’d be back, to appreciate the security it offered. But for now, it seemed a good place to have an uncomfortable conversation.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want, Jaesa. But I wanted to give you the chance.”

“I’d almost rather go back to Tython. Maybe I could pick up the bounty on myself, just to mess with the Council.”

Xhareen laughed, but quickly stifled it. “I’d almost like to see the look on their faces.”

Jaesa smiled. “I understand so much more now, Xhareen. About the Force, about emotions and passion and what attachments can do, good and bad. And I would have no problem explaining these things to my former master. But I’m not ready to forgive him.”

“Nor should you have to. The Council never wanted to believe you had power, and Nomen Karr misled you about what it really was.”

“For his own aims. All he wanted was revenge against Baras. I mean, that wasn’t a bad thing. But to him, it should have been. And yet it wasn’t … honestly, I still can’t wrap my head around it all.”

“As long as you understand why I need to meet with him, I will honor whatever wish you have.”

“Your rationale is clear. There’s nothing more to explain. I know what you want, and … I admire you for going after it. You’re the strongest Sith I’ve met. I doubt even Darth Marr would choose to learn from the Light Side.”

“I wouldn’t count Darth Marr out on that. But for me, it’s a purely selfish thing. I need to control my rage and I will do anything to accomplish that goal.”

Jaesa put her arm around Xhareen’s waist. Xhareen did the same. They stared out at the expanse of grass that was going to soon be planted as a garden.

“Like I said. Strongest Sith I know.”

“Thank you, my dear friend.”


	56. Because It Is Bitter, And Because It Is My Heart

**Dromund Kaas**

The attack on the Emperor wasn’t mentioned publicly, and even the Dark Council members spoke about it only once, in a closed session they insisted Xhareen attend.

She laid out what she saw exactly as it happened. Ravage grilled her for half an hour, but never once gave a hint as to how he felt the matter should be handled. Malgus, however, advocated announcing the Emperor’s death openly, and claiming a “new day had dawned in a resurgent Empire.” He tried convincing his peers, but only Arho offered even the slightest measure of agreement; as adjudicator, Darth Marr kept his opinion to himself when it was clear there was no consensus.

In the end, the determination was to keep the matter secret. The Emperor’s absence was taken as a given by anyone who cared, and ignored by most of the populace anyway.

Xhareen cautioned them that the Republic might use it for propaganda purposes. “Did we not do the same when their chancellor was executed and his malfeasance uncovered?” she reminded them.

“You are correct, Wrath,” Marr said, “but we must focus on the war. We will burn that bridge when we get to it.”

When she got back to the estate, Dr. Lokin and Kayda were waiting for her. Both of them were smiling suspiciously.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked.

Dr. Lokin smiled. “No, my dear, I think you’ll be very pleased but you must accompany us to my lab.”

They walked out one of the back entrances. The sun was unusually bright, even for the post-rainy season.

Lokin noticed her skyward gaze. “You know, the planetary meteorologists are abuzz, saying there’s been a remarkable sudden shift in the global cloud patterns. Of course, there’s been a trend for decades that’s brought us less bothersome weather overall, but the past week has seen some phenomenal and unprecedented changes.”

“Do I want to know how you know that?” Xhareen asked.

“Probably not,” he replied.

Inside the lab, Xhareen was amazed at how well-stocked it was with machinery and supplies she had no hope of identifying. She sat on a stool by a workbench Lokin pointed to while he excused himself to go to the back room. Kayda was smiling so broadly, Xhareen thought her face might crack.

“What?” Xhareen asked her. “You have a date with Pierce’s sister tonight?”

Kayda blushed. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do, but that’s not why I’m smiling now.”

Lokin returned and gave her a box. Inside were her tribal eye wraps, although something was off about them. She felt in her pocket … no, her actual wraps were still there. These must be replicas.

“What am I looking at then?” she asked him.

“Lift them up,” he said.

Underneath the wraps – made of a fiber Xhareen couldn’t identify by touch – lay a new visor. Sleek like the rectangular silver implants many people wore. But this was a melded pair, with attachments that would fit the implant ports in her temples, making them easily removable. 

“A new visor?”

Lokin nodded. “A significant improvement over your current device. And, it will work underneath this particular wrap, as well. The visor can sync with the specially designed cloth but no one will know you are enhanced underneath.”

It was indeed an amazing upgrade.

Kayda helped her get the new device situated. Xhareen immediately nearly lost her balance.

“You might experience some headaches over the next day or so, but after your brain adjusts, you won’t have nearly the problems you did with your old visor,” Lokin said. “And I must commend that house droid of yours. He had considerable files on the old device and how to repair it.”

Xhareen laughed. She’d programmed Toovee herself in how to repair her old visor, though he learned quickly how to adapt to dealing with all she had put it through.

“Thank you so much, Doctor,” Xhareen said, and hugged him. “You, too, Kayda.”

Kayda threw up her hands. “All I did was learn a few tricks for installation and make the doc upload an instruction manual to my medical pad.”

“Well, it’s a welcome improvement. And now, Kayda, I need your help. There’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. This is the perfect time for another change, too.”

~~~~~

 

The official alert that kept Kaas City in lockdown was lifted three days after the attack. Xhareen decided it was time to visit Nomen Karr.

Visitors to the southeastern quadrant of the Old City were usually surprised to discover that the non-descript (even for Kaas City) gray low-rise structure housed the most dangerous prisoners in the Empire’s custody. Anyone unfortunate enough to be granted clearance into the facility, jokingly referred to as the House of Undesirables, learned soon enough that 95 percent of it was underground.

Security was still tight at the prison. She had to give a genetic sample before entering, and was told she had to give one on the way out, too. She was tagged with a marker inserted into her upper arm that would track her whereabouts at all times – and because she was considered a VIP, it would have a health monitor as well.

The facility had numerous wings. Those in the depths of the prison were reserved for Force users and other special guests of the Dark Council.

As she travelled deeper into the complex, she began to feel light-headed, then as though her limbs were encased in duracrete. She kept her breathing steady. Finally, she came to the block where Karr was being held, and met a Sith guard.

She bowed deeply. “My lord, as you might have guessed, access to the Force is limited here. The walls are an amalgam of cortosis and native rock to keep it suppressed. This is where we keep Force users, and it helps prevent any surprises.

“The prisoner you are meeting with has been relatively docile since Baras died and left him without a sponsor. He will be wearing cortosis cuffs while you are with him. We are monitoring his cell, but if you wish, we will put it on visual only during your visit.”

“See that you do,” Xhareen said. “I need him to be forthcoming on some personal matters and being able to tell him we aren’t being listened to might help.”

“Of course, my lord,” the guard said. “One last thing, we have not informed him that Baras is dead.”

Xhareen knew from when she had reviewed Quinn’s prison records that a “sponsor” was the person responsible for overseeing a prisoner’s interrogations. In Baras’s case, that would have meant a personal torturer.

She walked through the final door. Nomen Karr, wearing typical Imperial gray drab prison clothes, sat with his feet up on the stone bench against the wall, his legs crossed, his eyes closed and his hands upturned although weighted down with heavy cortosis cuffs.

Xhareen could see that the dark marks that had erupted when he fought her on Hutta over Jaesa were mostly gone. But though he looked to be meditating, there was no golden Force aura surrounding him, and she wondered if he wasn’t just posing and pretending not to notice her presence.

“I was wondering if you’d ever show up, Sith,” he said, eyes closed, his voice monotone but clear. “You cut your hair short and that thing on your face is new.”

“I’m not here for a fashion review. I’m here for advice,” she said.

He opened his eyes, broke his stance, and began to laugh. “I’ll believe that when I believe they elected a gundark as supreme chancellor.”

“No, she’s a Twi’lek. Quite attractive, from the holos I’ve seen.”

That got his attention. “So, Janarus finally met his end?”

Xhareen nodded. “Killed by a bounty hunter, for some scandal involving a fellow Jedi, Jun Seros, and some beef with the Mandalorians.”

“I hate to admit this, because it sounds like sour grapes, but Seros was always a bigger hothead than I was,” Karr said.

“I would love to catch you up on politics at a later date, Karr, but I’m here on a more personal matter.”

Xhareen had barely begun to formulate how she was going to ask for what she needed from him. He would likely scoff and taunt her.

“I hope it’s that Jaesa escaped your clutches and returned to Tython of her own free will and is plotting your demise.” His voice had returned to the monotone of before.

“No, Jaesa has become a Sith lord in her own right. Her parents are alive and well and managing my estate. She’s trapped here on Dromund Kaas, however, since the Jedi put a bounty on her head for return to Tython for reconditioning.”

Karr shook his head. “Blast. I never meant to involve her in my feud with Baras. I would rather have died that day than to see her corrupted so.”

“Look at me," she commanded. He turned his head toward her briefly. "Do you see any corruption on me, Karr? There’s more than one way to serve the Dark Side, and Jaesa and I are in agreement on that.”

He waved his hand. “Bantha shit. Sith trickery is all.”

“Perhaps I should bring her here.”

He ignored that. “I guess it’s true then. Baras is dead. I thought I felt an echo of his passing but it’s hard with all the dampeners around us.”

“I killed him in fair combat,” Xhareen said.

“Why am I not surprised? It’s what you Sith do.”

“I didn’t do it for myself. I did not ascend to his seat on the Council. I did it for the good of the galaxy. I only wish I had done it sooner.”

Karr scoffed. “What did you get out of it, then?”

“A few pieces of property, some business pursuits not tied to slavery … and you.”

“You’re my new sponsor? Great. You gonna bring that head zapper in and liquify my brain? Baras threatened to use it a dozen times but never did.”

Xhareen wasn’t certain Baras knew what he wanted from Nomen Karr. Just to have him imprisoned, able to be tormented if he wanted to was all Baras would have required.

“I want to know how you Jedi control your rage. You lost your ability that day on Hutta but you appear to be, I guess healed would be a good word. I want to know how.”

“Why would you want to know that? And why would I want to tell it to you?” She could hear the skepticism in his voice.

“Because my rage has cost me dearly. I want to be in control of it. Why would you help me? I have no answer for that.”

Karr arranged himself in a normal, seated position. “Well, that’s a thing I’ve never heard before, but then again, when I was a Sith, I hung around with all the nasty characters.”

“More’s the pity, but I’m not going to play around with you any longer. Will you teach me, or at least point me in the right direction?”

He stared at her for a full minute. “You really are serious.”

“I know Jedi abhor attachments, but there are people around me I have hurt with my rage when it’s gotten out of control.”

“Not Jaesa, I hope.”

She shook her head. “No, though I have no idea if that’s merely coincidental.”

“You could have asked Jaesa to teach you what she learned, you know. Besides, isn’t my connection to the Force flawed, as you said?”

“That’s precisely why I’m here. Jaesa has taught me some things, but for what I need now, I was more interested in talking first to someone who’s experienced this kind of life-altering rage, Karr. Someone familiar with the Dark Side. At the time we fought, if you hadn’t lost control, I might not have beaten you.” She wasn’t sure if that was entirely true, but it was a good play.

“How do you propose we do that, given the Force suppression?”

“First, we talk. You give me pointers. If it goes well, I can petition to have you sent to a non-suppressed area of the prison for training, although I would guess it would be under heavy guard and I won’t fight that at all. You try to harm me or anyone else and you will be dealt with severely.”

“You really have changed since that day. They make you a darth for bringing down Baras?”

“Technically, yes. I took the name Darth Tempest.”

“Blast it again!” he cursed. “I would have won my bet with that cranky SIS supervisor!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The SIS had a file on you, including some speculation you had been a Hutt pit fighter called The Tempest. I thought that was the truth and I sense now I was right.”

“I don’t broadcast it, as the Hutts don’t take kindly to having their secrets revealed but you're correct.”

“So, what do they have you doing, Darth Tempest?”

“I actually go by another title. It’s the Emperor’s Wrath.”

At that, he bent over laughing. “The Emperor’s own Wrath! I thought that title was just a legend, something you tell Sith children to get them to behave. I guess Baras trained you well then, going around executing all his spies to cover his tracks.”

She had done much worse, but she wasn’t going to confess that to him.

“It got me to where I am today, for good and for ill. I embrace the good, but I must reject the ill.”

He shrugged his shoulders as much as he could with the heavy cuffs. “How in the galaxy could I turn down a chance to teach inner peace to the Emperor’s Wrath?”

Since he wasn’t quite mocking her, she thanked him.

“I need to make the arrangements but as soon as I can, I will return.”

“Up to you, Wrath,” he said.

“I have a name, you know.”

“I know, I saw your file. But anything that comes after ‘Sith,’ I tend to just forget.”

“Have it your way. Expect me to call again.”

~~~~~

When she left, Karr waited until the guard came in to remove his cuffs. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to fend off the tears until he was alone and sat for at least an hour crying – for joy, for remorse, for forgiveness from Jedi he’d probably never see again.

When he was finally able to stop, he recited the Jedi code three times and returned to meditating – this time, for real.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title refers to the poem "In the Desert" by Stephen Crane.


	57. The Second Line

Xhareen returned as promised to Nomen Karr’s detention cell the next day. As before, he was seated in meditation when she arrived but, as she had ordered the day before, he was not to be handcuffed when she arrived to meet with him.

Without changing position or offering any type of greeting, he said, “OK, Sith. Recite the Jedi Code.”

She had asked Jaesa, after they discussed her reluctance to visit her old master, to help her learn it. Xhareen remembered how ashamed she felt when Baras asked her – it felt like a decade ago – to recite the Sith Code. But she had been ordered to say she didn’t know it, so that Baras would think she was a blank slate for him to inscribe upon whatever he wished.

She’d known the Sith Code since she was 8 years old, and how to apply it in many situations.

This time, she was not going to appear foolish. And simply reciting it wasn’t difficult. She would be happy to admit that applying it was why she was meeting with Karr to begin with.

“There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion,” she hesitated for a moment, then continued, “there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”

She shuddered as she spoke the last line. It was what Vitiate had said, too. Why would he agree with a fundamental Jedi concept? The Sith were obsessed with living in the here and now, using the Force to achieve immediate goals. Death was to be avoided at all cost.

“You don’t mean a word of it, do you?” Karr asked.

“I support knowledge over ignorance, and chaos is neither a noble goal nor a smart way to run a society. And I have heard the last line before. I would love for it to be true.”

“What parts of it do you think are bantha crap?” he challenged.

“Emotions are natural for most sentient beings, so I guess I am perplexed why they are to be avoided. But mostly, I cannot give up passion, Karr. I cannot give up being a Sith. It’s how I access the Force.”

He turned to face her now. “I guess you’re right. I can’t treat you like a youngling. You have too much blood on your hands. And before you object, so do I. I cannot deny I’ve done things the Jedi Council would banish me for, in the name of protecting the Republic and all that is sacred to the Jedi.”

“So why are you a Jedi and I’m a Sith?” Xhareen asked.

Karr nearly howled with laughter. “That’s a question I doubt any of our scholars could answer. Perhaps it isn’t even relevant anymore. It really isn’t for me, here in this gray space, all but denied access to the Force.”

“That’s being worked on, if it helps you to know.”

He harrumphed. “Prisoner exchange, I’ll bet.”

Xhareen nodded. “Except negotiations are stalled. No one’s in the mood to talk.”

“I’m not at all surprised. But you’ve at least learned the first thing I wanted to convey. We aren’t the same. We, as you put it, access the Force differently. But there’s your first lesson: There is more than one way to access the Force.

“I, for one, do not believe that should be forbidden knowledge, for us or you Sith. I learned in my first encounter with you that keeping knowledge like that from Jedi can lead to horrible things.”

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge,” Xhareen said.

“So you see, we Jedi aren't perfect, either,” he replied. “So, tell me again, what is it you think I can impart to you? What ignorance must be abolished? What knowledge gained?”

“I need to be able to control outbursts of rage that I cannot otherwise control,” she said. “I hurt the people around me with the very power I use to protect them. I don’t know how it happens. If nothing else, I need to resolve this dilemma.”

She explained to him in detail every time she had lost control, from when she was a child, to the time she broke a lover’s collarbone while shouting at him during an argument, to hurting Quinn on the ship when she learned about her parents and Vette’s mother and then over Corellia, when Quinn said he was leaving her. She ended with the look on Quinn’s face when she contacted him by holo after he left, and how it had haunted her dreams ever since.

“If you didn’t love him, there’d be no conflict,” Karr said.

“I’d rather be dead than without love.”

“There is no death, only the Force,” he countered.

She shook her head. “Not good enough. As I said, I will not abandon passion. But I believe it can be controlled.”

They were both silent for a few moments.

“Hmm,” Karr said, breaking the silence. “All that time you were with the Hutts, you never lashed out? I’ve seen a few pit fights in my day. Beastly things. Worked the crowds into a frenzy.”

Xhareen laughed. He wasn’t far off the mark. “No, I never did. First, it was just a job. Often play acting. But if you got things wrong, got too angry and messed up an opponent you weren’t supposed to, you could be killed as punishment. Or worse. The Hutts employ torturers that make the Empire envious.”

“So, dispassion and motivation. Survival,” Karr said.

“I guess so.”

“Did you use the Force when you fought?” he asked.

“Not normally, but sometimes. Either for show or a few times to save my life. But I was a teenager when I started and my Force powers weren’t all that great. I spent my time training my physical powers, not my Force abilities.”

“You have to center on that kind of motivation, then. You need passion to survive, you say, but you are motivated to protect the ones you love.

“As I said yesterday, we’re not all that different. We’ve touched the other side of the Force from what we are used to,” he said.

“Was it all that terrible, Karr? You thought you were protecting someone you cared about.”

“I wasn’t prepared for it. For that rush of anger and hatred and sheer, raw passion.” He rubbed his eyes.

“Because you had locked yourself away from it.”

“And I didn’t give Jaesa the credit she deserved. I never meant to, but I kept her on a leash, like a pet akk dog. A pet akk dog with a useful ability.”

“You do know she was never the oracle you portrayed her as. Her power is to affirm what those she is close to already know.”

“So you’re saying she doesn’t even have a special ability?”

“Not at all. People need the confidence she can provide. She’s a canny observer. That’s a skill there can never be enough of.”

Tears formed in his eyes, glistening on the remaining light brown patches around them.

“I failed her, didn’t I?”

Xhareen came over and touched him lightly on the arm, pleased and surprised when he didn’t pull away.

“No, Nomen Karr. You prepared her for a unique and important life. I know it’s hard on you, thinking she is a servant of the Empire but I can tell you this, she is a servant of the galaxy first.”

“The Council all said, years ago they warned me, that going undercover was dangerous. That I could do much worse than die in the line of duty.”

And again, something they shared, Xhareen thought. Knowing you were good at your job, but doing things you were ashamed of in the process.

“I guess we could have both been like Baras, Nomen. Maniacal puppet masters, moving people around like dolls on strings, trying to control the galaxy and failing miserably.”

He began to laugh, a genuine, heartfelt gaiety overcoming him. Xhareen swore the spots on his face were nearly gone now.

“The guard will be coming soon to tell you to leave, Xhareen. Trust me, you spend this long in a prison cell, you get a whole new appreciation for the passage of time.

“I know you Sith meditate. I suggest you begin searching for some safe spot where you can see passion without invoking it. Or provoking it, in your case. Do that, and only then come back to me again. I will consider all you have said, too. By then I might have something useful for you.”

Xhareen was getting ready to speak when the cell door opened. The guard, bearing a long stun pole, told her it was time to go.

“Thank you, Nomen. I will do as you suggest.”

“And thank you, too, my lord,” he said, bowing in a way that was, this time, not at all mockery.

Xhareen left the cell, and the prison. There was a hint of sun shining overhead, the clouds breaking in places to reveal a pale blue sky. The rainy season was truly over. Maybe they'd even skip the merely drizzly season now.

There would be more sunny days ahead, of that she was certain, and that wasn’t just a weather forecast.

She went to the nearest taxi stand and made her way home. Along the way, she considered what she should tell Jaesa, if anything.


	58. Once I Knew A Fine Song

**_Nar Shaddaa, the previous year_ **

With Rathari and Dellocon dispatched, Xhareen declared they would stay on Nar Shaddaa until Baras ordered them to their next assignment.

She wanted to have a little recreational time, but mostly she wanted to think. Releah -- her first love, a Chiss she had known since she was a child, and now a Sith apprentice in his own right -- had joined them earlier in their mission before heading off to find something he called The Infinite Engine.

He snuck up on her and Quinn on the Promenade, and said in his musical baritone, “Hello, Beautiful.” Before Xhareen could introduce him, Quinn had his blaster out, and grabbed him by the collar.

“I noted you following us back at the food vendor’s. State your business,” he spat.

“Funny,” Releah said. “I’d been following you for half an hour before that.”

Quinn only let Releah go once Xhareen swore he was not only an old friend, but also a Sith. He apologized profusely, and sensing the two wanted privacy, announced he was heading back to the ship to compile reports.

They kept in touch after he went off on his own and were to meet tonight for dinner in the Corellian sector.

That was over an hour ago. He hadn’t contacted her at all. Xhareen finally ordered some nerf pot roast and had three rounds of strong whiskey, alone.

Just as she left the restaurant, she heard Vette calling her.

“Please, don’t tell me this is just a coincidence, Vette,” Xhareen said, more than a little exasperated at everyone right now. She had been looking forward to spending time alone with Releah. She’d always had feelings for him, always harbored some hope they’d get back together someday. Hopefully tonight.

 “Yeah, I was hoping to see your new old friend again but I guess that didn’t happen, did it?” Vette asked, jolting Xhareen back into the present.

“He stood me up. I was going to head back to the ship.”

“Oh no you are not,” Vette declared. “I’m not letting you be around Captain Detachment when you’re in a mood like this.”

Xhareen sighed. “Please tell me you’re not calling him names again.”

“Not to his smug-but-pretty face, no,” she said with an especially sheepish grin.

Xhareen had taken off her plasteel visor and was wearing her tribal wraps instead. It hid more of her face, the beads and fringe just hinting at her cheekbones and leaving only the tip of her nose showing. She reached her hand up under it and massaged her temples.

“I need some more to drink and to complain for a while, Vette. There’s a small cantina near here, if memory serves.”

Vette took Xhareen by the arm and started to lead her to the main walkway. “It’s a good place to start, my Sithy friend.”

~~~~~

The line to get into the cantina was too long, so Xhareen and Vette kept walking.

"Soooo, you gonna tell me what's up with the pretty blue boy?"

"I wish I knew, Vette."

"What's his story? You two seemed pretty cozy. Quinn was definitely jealous."

Xhareen stopped. "Why in the galaxy would he be jealous? He's made it clear we cannot be together. He says I'm his general, nothing more."

"Look, I know it's a sore subject, so I'll try to avoid discussing Duke Difficult for tonight. Can't make any promises, but I really want to know about pretty blue boy!" Vette put her arm in Xhareen's and started them moving forward again. “Blue must be your favorite color!”

"You have a name for him, too?"

"Hmmm,” Vette said, scratching her chin for effect. “Mr. Hot Body seems too obvious, but it sure does fit."

Xhareen giggled. Vette poked her in the side. "Come on, we're friends even though you're a spooky Sith apprentice, right?"

"Vette, we will always be friends. You and I have a lot more in common than I do with most Sith, apart from the Force, anyway."

"I wore my collar longer, but I never had to kill anyone for a crust of bread."

"Exactly." Xhareen stopped again, and gave Vette a quick hug.

"Good, glad we cleared that up but I really, really want to know about the cheeky Chiss!"

"Here's a little-known secret: He was my first." Xhareen was grateful for the extra covering on her face, because she was certain even a non-Miralukan could sense the heat in her cheeks right now.

"First what?"

"What do you think, Vette?"

"RANCORS BALLS!" Vette shouted, but turned away when people started staring at them.

Xhareen grabbed Vette by the arm and ducked into the nearest open place, which turned out to be a large restaurant-cantina holding an open mike night.

They sat down in a quiet corner booth and ordered two ales. Xhareen poured out her whole history with Releah through a few unmemorable singers and a few more ales.

Then a nervous young Togruta girl walked up to the mic next and began to sing, " _I sense there's something in the wind/that feels like tragedy's at hand,_ " from an over-the-top Sith romantic operetta.

Vette leaned over and whispered to Xhareen, "Say nothing, and as subtly as you can, look at the bar on the left."

It was Quinn. Moping over a snifter of what looked to be Corellian brandy.

Xhareen cursed quietly. Had he been following her, too? "Damn, I was going to get up and sing next."

"You still should. Quinn can suck it."

But Xhareen felt a chill run through her veins, that the girl’s song was really a prophecy: " _And will we ever end up together? No, I think not. It's never to become. For I am not the one._ " The girl sat down, and the crowd applauded politely.

Xhareen snuck a look back at the bar. Quinn has stopped drinking, and he seemed to be wiping his eyes. " _No, Quinn_ ," Xhareen thought, " _I am the one singing that song_."

Just then, the Twi'lek MC returned to the stage and called out: "HELLO ESTEEMED PATRONS OF THE RAGING RANCOR! WE HAVE A MIRALUKAN IN THE CROWD AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!!!" The spotlights twirled around and settled down hard on Xhareen.

Vette poked her. "I'll never forgive you if you don't do this."

Xhareen stood up and waved to the cheering crowd, who were clearly even drunker than she was. As she was talking to the young male human running the music machine, she used her Force sight to see if Quinn was watching.

He was no longer at the bar. But then she focused her thoughts, and could see he’d gone into a back corner, trying to hide. _Great_ , Xhareen thought, another week of awkwardness as they both try to avoid discussing what had just happened.

Xhareen picked a popular song she knew was a crowd pleaser, one that would bring out the best in her voice. " _And so the pain begins, as the music fades, and I'm left here with, with more than I can take.._."

When she was done, the crowd rewarded her with a heartfelt ovation. She knew it wasn’t half bad, certainly what a non-Miralukan crowd would think a Miraluka should sound like.  

She spent a much-needed moment soaking up the crowd's approval, completely forgetting about Quinn. By the time she thought to look for him, he was gone for real.

She walked back to the table and when the waiter came up, she ordered another round. The waiter told her they’d be on the house.

"I'm also tearing up your tab, as six customers have already offered to pay your drinks,” he said, “including that young Chiss man over there."

He pointed to another booth, tucked into the other back corner. It was Releah.

Xhareen waved to him but didn’t move from her seat. "You'd better go over there, or I'll never forgive you," Vette said.

"Boy, you're in a ruthless mood tonight!" she teased back. “Don’t worry. "I'm going over there, is that OK?"

Vette mock bowed. "I accept my role as wingman and can find my own way back to the ship."

Xhareen made her way to Releah’s table. “Hello, Beautiful,” he said as she sat down.

“No, no,” she replied, waving her finger at him. “You stood me up. You don’t get to be Mr. Smooth until you explain yourself.”

“I’m not supposed to discuss my mission, dove, so can I get away with just blaming work?”

She smiled. “OK. Done. I want to get out of here.” She grabbed the bottle of whatever he’d been drinking off the table.

Releah motioned the waiter over and handed him a credstick to settle the bill. “I know a nice little flophouse not too far from here,” he said as Xhareen nearly flew to the door.

 

~~~~~

After several rounds of vigorous sex between bodies that knew each other well, Xhareen was happy for a break. Still, all the tension that had built up during the past weeks she had been locked on a ship, craving a man who had no desire for her, had melted away with Releah’s expert touch.

She rolled over onto her back. He was starting to get dressed. The overnight room rate was going to expire soon enough. “You know, it was sheer luck we wound up in that club, but I certainly can’t complain about the outcome.”

Releah stopped, the open clasps on his tunic exposing his smooth blue skin. “It was good to see you again, dove. But the porter’s going to be coming through soon to extract more credits, so we should be going.”

She sat up and began gathering her clothing that had been scattered all over the small room. “I can pay, but you know, we could continue this rent-free on my ship.”

“Hah! I don’t think so!” He handed her one of her boots.

“What’s that mean now? I thought I meant something to you.”

He came over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Xhareen, face it. I will always love you in some way, but we are not meant to be together.”

She scoffed. “I’m not talking about buying a sky palace and making babies, Releah. I just want to spend more than one night with you. Come with me for a while.”

It really would be good to have a distraction, and another strong Sith wouldn’t hurt, either. She and Quinn had been forced to enlist a Republic squad to bring Rathari to heel; they wouldn’t have that option in every fight and Releah’s strong lightning attacks could match any small band of Republic blaster bunnies.

“No, no matter how much I care for you, I can’t be a third repulsor.” He pulled away and went back to fixing his tunic.

“That’s ridiculous! Quinn has said outright to my face that there is nothing romantic or sexual going to happen between us. And I’m not going to sit around and hope he’s bluffing.”

“I think you’re denying your fate, Xhareen.”

“What, are you a soothsayer now?”

Releah didn’t respond right away, nor did he bother pretending to fuss with his clothing. His voice grew soft, even a bit sad. “You have Force sight, you have cybernetics, and still you can’t see it, can you?”

She threw herself back on the lumpy bed and covered her face with her arms. “That’s pretty low, Releah. I don’t think I’ve done anything to merit an insult like that.”

“I’m not trying to insult you, dove. I have seen how he looks at you and trust me as a man, that’s how I look when I want someone.”

“Actions speak much louder than looks, Releah. And I doubt I will live long enough to see any action from him.”

The rest of the argument went nowhere, and soon enough, Releah announced he was leaving and he hoped he would meet up with her again sometime. Xhareen had never put her second boot on, so she grabbed it now and hurled it at the door as it closed behind him.

She didn’t want to stay here and have to explain to Quinn or anyone on the ship where she was or why, so she finished dressing and headed back to the spaceport. If this Maker-forsaken moon had a sun, it would be poking its obnoxious head up by now. She ought to get back to the ship if she didn’t want to answer any questions.

~~~~~

By the time she walked up the ramp to the ship’s hatch, she was feeling the lack of sleep and the abundance of drink she’d had the night before. Now, either her holo was buzzing again or her head was ready to come apart, or perhaps both. All she wanted was to take a hot water shower for the next two hours and wash this abysmal night away. She knew she smelled of booze and sex and didn’t want to feel like she was carrying a brothel around on her back for another minute.

The hatch finally opened -- why had it taken so long to do so? – and Quinn was waiting in the anteroom. He was pacing, as though he couldn’t decide whether to be the worried father or the scolding mother readying a lecture for a teen who’d broken curfew.

“My lord! Are you OK?” Worried Dad had won. He seemed exceedingly pale, although Xhareen was not going to make any bets on her sight being accurate at the moment.

“Not now, Quinn,” she scolded. “I’m fine. I just want to shower and sleep. And please, unless the ship is under fire, don’t wake me until midday.”

She brushed past him as a stammer broke over his lips, but he simply nodded and said, “Affirmative,” as she made her way toward her cabin.

Somehow, she made it without stumbling and got herself undressed and into the refresher. She knew Quinn had cited some regulation about minimal water being used for showering, but she couldn’t recall the last time she hadn’t just used the sonic, so she figured she was due some extra comfort time.

She stripped and entered the stall and let the water dissolve her frustration and pain. Soon enough, she was sitting by a lake in the forest near her childhood home on Covenant and there were no signs of Quinn or Releah or any other sentient being in sight.

~~~~~

She was suddenly aware of very loud insect buzzing around her. She instinctively swatted by her face, but it was just water that she struck. Still hot, which was good.

The buzzing had stopped, but then she heard a man’s voice calling her name. “My lord! Are you all right? Xhareen?”

It was Quinn. He was in her cabin, outside the refresher door.

“What do you want? We’d better be engaging a Republic battlecruiser … or worse!”

He cleared his throat and assumed his “I’m in command” voice. “My lord. You went past the allotted time limit for aqueous showers. Given the state you were in upon your return to the ship, I grew concerned.”

Blast it! She stood up and turned off the running water. She grabbed her cloth robe and put it on without bothering to dry off. Her visor was on the stand next to her bed, so she grabbed a towel and put it over her head. No matter how silly she must look, she wasn’t ready for Quinn to see her with her eyeless face uncovered.

She nearly bumped into him as she stormed out of the compartment, dripping wet, and full of outrage. “Well, other than being soaking wet and humiliated, I am fine. We can discuss water quotas later. Now follow my orders and leave me be until midday!”

She immediately regretted her harsh tone when his face went from stern to smacked pup. “Of course, my lord. Please accept my apologies. I won’t bother you anymore. …”

Xhareen realized just then Quinn had a knack for ending his sentences without really ending them. He frequently seemed on the verge of saying something all the time, and now was no different. “Unless you are hungry, because I was going to ask if you wanted me to order Toovee to prepare you something. You really should not go to sleep with nothing but alcohol on your stomach.”

It wasn’t all alcohol, she nearly said out loud, but kept quiet. She was so frustrated because this was all his fault, and even more frustrated because she knew it really wasn’t his fault. She had no right blaming him for any of this and there was no call to scream at him like she wanted to do.

Plus, he was right. She was famished. _Damn his ability to anticipate her needs_! Duty was all it was to him, she reminded herself.

“Some hot porridge and a tisane would be fine. Thank you for being so considerate, Captain.”

“Your comfort is my duty, my lord,” he said, before spinning around and exiting the cabin.

~~~~~

Ten minutes later, Quinn returned with a tray. He buzzed her door, but she didn’t answer. He buzzed again, hoping she hadn’t gone back into the refresher to spite him.

He used his medical override when she failed to answer after the third ring. He entered and saw her, asleep in her robe, on top of her bedspread. She’d removed the towel she’d used to cover her face and Quinn got a good look at her before realizing that, if she were faking, she could see him staring at her.

“My lord?” he whispered. “Your food is here.”

She didn’t stir, and Quinn realized she was genuinely asleep, because in the months since she’d walked into his war room on Balmorra, he’d never known her to turn down food.

He knelt by the bed and pressed his hand to her neck. She was breathing and her pulse felt normal. Her skin was warm and still wet, and he wanted for nothing but to say how intriguing it was to finally see her face uncovered. He’d always thought beauty was in the eyes, but there was so much more to this woman’s face that he was ready to admit he’d been wrong.

He got up and thought about taking away the tray, but he wanted to make sure she knew he had at least tried. He reached for one of her extra blankets, tossed on the chair next to her bed. He covered her gently and she never stirred.

She was going to be okay, and he had duties to perform, so he left her cabin with the thought of freshly moistened Sith on his mind and went to continue his day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first song quoted is "Sally's Song" by Amy Lee. The second is "Lift Me Up" by Christina Aguilera.


	59. A Sea Change Is Coming

**_On Ilum_ **

Quinn straightened his jacket for the sixth time, then patted at his hair to make sure it was in place. Or most of it, anyway. He never bothered with the nerflick anymore. It mostly obeyed and made him look "fashionable," as the disheveled look had become popular among some circles on Dromund Kaas. This was much to the chagrin of military officers, a disgust Quinn shared. He doubted he looked "fashionable," but that was what Xhareen had always said, too.

He thought about her again and sighed. He'd have to stop doing that. She still hadn't contacted him or acknowledged his communications. She had spoken, by not speaking to him at all since their argument. He hoped otherwise, but he had to accept the evidence. He had no time for unqualified hope, at least not when it came to their broken relationship.

He'd gone years without intimacy before they got together. He could go on.

He had to save his hopes and dreams for his career now and more importantly, for the troops that relied on him. He cared deeply for them and their welfare. He admitted, it took focus and concentration when they came to him individually with personal issues. He knew in his head he couldn't just say "Buck up and follow the regulations and get seven hours' sleep each night." Sometimes, he had to deal with them, and their issues, as people first, soldiers second.

But as a unit, they were of the utmost importance now.

They were all he had.

The adjutant called his name. "Moff Regus will see you now, Major," she said. Quinn noted she was a human indistinguishable from any of the thousands or even millions of women you'd see on Dromund Kaas. Another side effect of his new command: Not only did he have the largest contingent of aliens in any single unit, he also had the most diverse human group, too. At least half from Ziost, the rest from many colonial worlds. Thirteen young Kaasians and two Republic defectors as well.

They had the highest survival rate during the Corellian conflict, and they hadn't lost a soul since arriving on Ilum. It was a testament to their training and their dedication because failing to follow protocols on this icy world meant a swift death.

He nodded to the woman and then followed her into Regus's command center.

It was a large space, carved out of the rock by one of the first icebreakers to land planetside. The walls were unfinished, and radiated a chill the space warmers couldn't even begin to compensate for. Regus, his staff, and all the machinery sat in the center of the room, where it was a good 15 degrees warmer than at the walls.

Quinn moved to the center. Regus called to his staff and asked them all to leave the room. They followed the adjutant out of the door, which swooshed closed with proper Imperial efficiency.

Quinn bowed. "Sir, you wished to see me?"

Regus motioned to two stuffed hide chairs, facing each other, whose metal legs extended down to warming mats. A small drinks table sat between them. But there were no drinks. Quinn had no illusions this was going to be a social meeting anyway.

"Major, your unit is going to receive new orders. I wanted to discuss them with you first so as to minimize the impact and allow you to present it to your troops in unity with high command."

Quinn shifted in the chair. "Sir?"

"Yes, now, Major, I don't want you to see this as any kind of punishment. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Your success with our, with the alien initiative has not gone unnoticed. Certainly not by me, and that's saying something, as I was opposed to it from the start.

"However, you allayed my fears about the loyalty of the rabble ... these newcomers. And they certainly can use their savagery and shiftiness when it's called for. Your scouts are gaining quite the reputation here on Ilum."

Quinn cleared his throat. "So what is being required of us, sir?"

"We don't need an entire battalion here on Ilum, what with the Sith contingent that should land by day's end and other changes that are coming. In fact, your battalion was formed for the last drive on Corellia, which that wife of yours rather quickly rendered unnecessary."

Quinn bristled and sat forward in his chair. What was Regus implying, that his unit was not supposed to have survived Corellia? "My wife ... Sir ... is a Lord of the Sith and the Emperor's Wrath. I'm sure you've read the dossier."

"Yes, yes, and it was quite insightful. When I first spoke with her, and she was just Baras's rogue apprentice, when she contacted me to beg for your life and future ... she never bothered to let me know she was an alien. Did you know that?"

General Exxum's warning on Dromund Kaas made sense now. Quinn's battalion had been formed behind Regus's back. He had thought Xhareen a human. Now he was on a world at the mercy of the battalion he never wanted.

"My wife does not hide who she is. Certainly, you noticed the visor."

"Yes, but I just thought she was one of those Sith whose constant in-fighting had cost them their eyesight, so she had cybernetic implants. I am a citizen of the Empire. I have never met a Miralukan in person. Aren't they mostly Jedi anyway?"

"There's a whole Imperial colony world they control. They are renowned musicians and scientists, sir," he said, trying to keep himself in control. "That is her homeworld."

"Yes, yes, whatever. I didn't mean to get you all riled up about your wife. My point is, I am in command here. Our mission has become more focused, and Darth Marr has asked for troops to work on a special project in the Imperial core worlds.

"He's looking to form a rapid response unit. I believe 200 of your troops, including your entire alien contingent, with you in command, will fit the bill nicely. The remainder of your battalion will remain here. I trust one of your captains is capable of being promoted to lead them?”

Not that he gave Quinn any time to answer. "You'll still have your ships,” he continued. “In fact, you can have more if needed. Once you get the final organizational chart and assign your people, get back to my adjutant. I was wondering, are any of them ... concerned about bunking with aliens?"

Suddenly, the chair beneath Quinn felt like it was on fire. "Sir, this is an awful idea. We should assign people to the roles based on their skills and training, not merely their racial status. I'm disappointed that my troops are considered disposable, and I would like to see the data you've gathered showing this to be a viable solution to whatever your problems here or elsewhere are."

"Are you refusing to follow my orders, Major Quinn? Tell me, do you enjoy spending your days in Imperial prison? Is there something about the hospitality that appeals to you?"

Quinn bit his lip, making sure Regus saw it. He made no effort to keep the anger from reddening in his cheeks. "If that's all the Empire values me for ..."

Regus threw his hands in the air. "You are impossible, Major. We’ll never win this war if we keep sidelining our best officers. But I admire your dedication to your men or ... whatever they are."

"They're loyal Imperial troops, sir. They serve with no promise of citizenship, no rights off the battlefield but they have earned one thing, and that's the loyalty and camaraderie of the humans under my command."

"Which, son, makes them perfect for their next assignment. I expect you to follow your orders. My adjutant will give you the requirements and you will choose who to assign where, as long as you take all your aliens with you."

Quinn nodded. "I will comply, Moff Regus. You have heard my objection. Whatever handicap this requirement places on my troops, we will adapt, train and overcome. You have my word on that."

"Good. You're dismissed." Regus got up from the chair and walked back toward the control station.

Quinn rose, straightened his jacket and headed wordlessly for the door. He was about to press the button to open it, when he turned back toward Regus.

"Sir, for what it's worth: You are wrong for looking down upon my wife. Maybe for marrying me, but not for her service to the Emperor, the Council or the Empire. You know she won Corellia, broke through all the logistical barriers our troops could not. What you don't know is what it cost her. It's not my place to tell you, but it's more than you or I ever could give, save our own lives. And I'm sure if it had been possible, she would have given her own life in exchange.

"That's all I have to say, and now I will take my leave."

When the door closed and Quinn was gone, Regus pounded on the screen in front of him. He wanted to scream "Bloody aliens!" but he also knew Quinn was right, damn him. The Sith and the humans had given this war all they could, and it had not been enough. Kilran had been in favor of drafting aliens, but he'd gotten himself killed on some screwball mission for the Emperor himself. _Bloody Sith_ , always taking from the military, never giving anything in return.

Regus had wanted nothing but to retire, maybe consult or run a private supplier like an old soldier who’s seen too many wars does when a new war breaks out. But no, he'd been forced into this role at a time of change, change he was unwilling to accept.

Change he knew would run him over. _Progress_ , the damn liberals called it. _Practical_ , many of his peers would say. _Abominable_ , his wife would agree.

Our best officers -- and he had to admit, Quinn was one of those, just as his father had been -- would have to face it. One way or another, change was coming, and like the avalanches that filled the crevasses to the west on a daily basis, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

 

~~~~~

Quinn was still shivering when he got back to his command center. Lt. Kirrika followed him into his office, asking if he wanted tea or broth to warm up. He asked her to bring a cup of each.

When he'd downed the broth, he sipped the tea, suddenly wishing he had Toovee here, with his extensive repertoire of teas that Xhareen had programmed him to make.

She had a tea for the headaches her visor gave her, a tea for when the duties of the ship got to her, a tea for when Vette or Jaesa wanted to talk all night, a tea for when he and Pierce disagreed and each brought his case to her.

He wondered if she'd programmed new teas once she found out she was ...

"No," he said aloud, rubbing his temples. "I can't go there."

Just then the comm buzzed. "Sir, the Sith squad is here. Their leader would like to meet with you."

"Sith. Leader." Quinn was suddenly terrified and excited. Would she be leading them?

But the figure that ambled into his office was too large to be Xhareen, especially covered in a coldsuit and heavy parka, the face obscured by a nano-fiber balaclava and goggles. The visitor took the parka off first, and then the goggles, revealing blue skin and red illuminated eyes. Chiss. It made sense. They were acclimated to cold weather, and more than a few of them had entered the ranks of the Sith.

This one appeared to be male. He took off the mask and Quinn registered a thick mop of black hair before the features resolved themselves into someone he knew he had met before.

_Dammit_. Xhareen's ex, Releah. They met on Nar Shaddaa. And Xhareen had spent the night with him, then returned to the ship an emotional wreck. Quinn made her porridge, but she never ate it.

Quinn could admit it now: He'd been jealous, even back then, months before he gathered the courage to let her know how he really felt. Months she spent thinking he never would.

"Hello, Major is it now. I take it you remember me."

"Xhareen isn't here, if you're looking for her." Quinn couldn't think of anything else to say, but at least he was able to keep his temper under control and the bile from rising to his throat.

"No, actually, I'm here to help with whatever Maker-forsaken mission is taking place on this iceball. I've brought six other Sith because we hear there are Jedi interested in more than just their old temple."

Quinn had suspected as much. He'd put his suspicions into several reports, but no one had remarked on it yet. His scouts hadn't been allowed to get too close to the temple site and now, it seemed, they never would.

"I'm not sure you should be dealing with me, my lord," he said.

"Listen, Quinn, I'm not jealous about you and Xhareen. I heard you two are married. Myroli told me. I'm happy for her, happy for you both."

Quinn sighed. He hated perpetuating a lie, but it was easier for everyone if he didn't get into his personal business, and his failings, right here and now. "That's not exactly what I meant. I've been reassigned. I'll be gone in two days."

"Are you at least going to be given leave? If you do, please send Xhareen my lo ... my greetings."

"I'm not at liberty to disclose my schedule, my lord."

Releah laughed. "No, I don't suppose you are. Perhaps you can point me in the direction of your successor, then? I've been warned to avoid Regus as much as possible."

Quinn looked down at his boots, hands on his hips, a smack of disgust on his lips. Regus's outdated prejudice was detrimental to the Empire's war efforts, in addition to being harmful to the woman he ... he was going to admit it to himself ... the woman he still loved.

All the fear he had felt after the transponder incident, and again after her rage attack on the Indomitable, melted away when Regus impugned her for no other reason than her heritage. Not to mention, he completely missed that he'd insulted a Sith lord -- and all Sith, the Sith they were supposed to serve.

"Releah, my lord, I am about to inform one of my captains that she's receiving an unexpected and sudden promotion. Let's go sit down with her and discuss how she can help you with your mission."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "nerflick" as in Star Wars for a cowlick.


	60. To The Stars Endless

**_Sith Sanctum_ **

Darth Marr’s words left Xhareen speechless.

“How can you be so blithe about it, Darth Marr? I won Corellia for the Empire with my bare hands. I gave a life for that victory. It cost me my marriage, my hopes, my child …”

“There’s no excuse I can give you, my dear.” His voice was far kinder and softer than she had ever heard. She didn’t think such a daunting Sith mask would ever allow so much softness to come through.

“We got what we needed from the planet. That’s all I can offer as reasoning.”

“I thought we needed the planet!” Xhareen could feel her skin getting hot and the air around her starting to swirl.

Then she remembered what she had learned from Nomen Karr, and what she had learned in the past week on her own.

_Motivation: I do not want to harm Darth Marr. I do not want to reveal this unchecked power in the Sanctum._

_Dispassion: War is about loss as much as victory. We will triumph in the end. My anger is pointless in the larger scheme of things. I am still needed in this conflict._

_Connection: People depend on me. Malavai will return._

_Peace._  

She took a final deep breath before attempting to speak again. If Darth Marr noticed her small ritual or found her sudden silence strange, he said nothing.

“So where am I to go next? And what is our objective?”

Darth Marr went to the galaxy map in the back of his office. “Here. A dismal rock known as Ilum. And our objective is not to take the planet and keep it; I hope it helps knowing that up front. We have a far more specific goal in mind …”

~~~~~

Broonmark was elated to learn about the mission.

“It is our chance to show our allegiance is now with Sith clan,” he said, pounding his chest with his hand.

“We need to stay focused on the mission at hand, Broonmark, but from the reports I have here, we will very likely encounter your people along the way,” Xhareen said.

“Not my people anymore. We are with the Sith,” he retorted.

“So be it. At least one of is excited and not going to freeze,” she responded.

Xhareen informed the crew they’d be stopping at Vaiken to pick up another crew member. A mercenary. That was all she knew; they’d have to assess the candidate’s fitness once they got there.

But for now, Jaesa, Kayda, Broonmark and Xhareen were ready to return to the fight.

~~~~~

**_On Vaiken, Cartel Market level_ **

Days like this, Xhareen wished she had glowing red lights on her visor that she could train on people when they said inane things and deserved a good staring at. It was the only time she ever missed having eyes.

“What do you mean, this is my mercenary? I requested someone with a military background and superb fighting skills.”

“That’s what the personnel manifest says, my lord. Plus, it says here the, um, they had a perfect score on the Mekhis Aggression Index. No need to worry about combat readiness.”

Xhareen had never seen an Imperial master sergeant so nervous. Or a wampa so small. At least, that’s what she thought she was looking at. A dark, miniature wampa.

“Are you sure he … they… have passed the all qualifications?”

The sergeant nodded. He was still sweating and Xhareen threw up her hands in exasperation.

The alleged mercenary was sitting on an empty cargo crate, legs dangling over the side and nowhere near able to touch the floor. They looked more like a stuffed toy than a merciless killing machine. A small bowcaster was slung over their back and they were eating a strange fruit in a less-than-decorous manner.

“You’ll be right at home with Broonmark,” Xhareen said.

She was ignored. She went over and poked the furry being on the shoulder. “Your name, now,” she demanded.

Which provoked a long narrative declaration she could not understand, with much gesticulation. The little being hopped down from the crate, drew the bowcaster, and demonstrated dramatically they were not afraid to start a fight or finish one.

Instead of making her more frustrated, Xhareen couldn’t help but smile. Clearly, the tiny mercenary was intelligent, animated and ready for battle, even if Xhareen didn’t get a word that had been said.

“Oh, by the way, my lord,” the master sergeant said. “You’ll need to install this mod on your datapad and have it upgrade your implants to understand it. I mean her. Her. If the translation is correct.”

It took a few minutes, but Xhareen’s translator finally began working.

She said her name was Treek, but when asked where she came from or what her people were called, she just said, “My homeworld far away in the stars endless, and my people are the people.” Treek insisted on calling Xhareen “chief,” and seemed eager to get the mission underway.

As she was signing off on Treek’s transfer, Xhareen saw an advanced model droid in the back of the sergeant’s work area. It seemed to be on guard, but the only thing it appeared to be guarding was a derelict food replicator. She nodded in its direction and asked the master sergeant about whether it was available for duty, too.

“That one’s from Belsavis, discovered on some Sith expedition in Section X, my lord. It’s a bit … quirky,” he said.

“I believe I can handle quirky, sergeant.”

“Well, by quirky, I might mean ‘deadly.’ It’s not quite combat ready. Or rather, it’s a bit unrestrained in combat situations. As in, wipes out everything in sight in the sims, including friendlies.”

The droid heard itself being mentioned. “Observation: Those simulations were clearly written by children. They were not a fair test of my programming.”

“What is your programming, droid?” Xhareen asked.

“Declaration: Assassination protocols activated and in stand-by mode.”

“And your name?” Xhareen asked.

“Designation: I am HK-51.”

_So, another in the HK series?_ she thought. Xhareen turned back to the master sergeant. “I want this droid as well. I will pay a fair rate. If there’s any problem, I’m sure I can get Darth Marr to clear it up.”

“No need to bother the council on this one, my lord. Or to create more forms to be filed by paying.” He leaned in to whisper to Xhareen, “I’d pay you to take him, if I could. You’re doing me a great favor.”

It was settled. Two new crewmembers for the price of one.

~~~~~

The journey to Ilum was without incident, although Treek made it clear to all involved she would not bunk with HK-51. HK, on the other hand, refused to remain anywhere near Toovee for longer than he had to.

“Protestation: This unit is so inferior, it could undo the centuries of work that went into creating me!” the offended droid declared.

In the end, HK deemed Broonmark to be an acceptable roommate; Broonmark was so excited about the upcoming chance to fight the Talz who rejected him, he scarcely noticed that HK had declared the front corner of the cargo hold his spot.

Treek planted herself in the bunk that had been specially constructed for Pierce, lengthened and strengthened to handle his oversized form. Xhareen decided she couldn’t object. While Treek would never physically fill the space, her oversized personality certainly did.

Xhareen tracked down Vette and asked her to review HK’s programming.

“Yeah, I’m not sure if he’s trigger happy due to his native programming, which is way past even my skills,” Vette told her. “I’m pretty sure it’s a personality quirk.”

“Can you fix it?” Xhareen asked, with no hope of success.

“Actually, I can send a sim over that you can run through that will let you recalibrate his overeagerness. I hope.”

“Do I want to ask you where you got that program from, Vette?”

“Nope. You really, really don’t.”

In the end, Xhareen managed to set some parameters to protect the crew, other friendlies and innocents. But it was clear HK wasn’t going to change his outlook on “unfriendly meatbags.” She threatened to rename him "Extreme Prejudice" and he nearly cried oil through his tear ducts in thanks.

An hour or so later, HK found Xhareen in the lounge.

“Observation: You are blessed with some advanced encryption protocols on this ship, Master,” he said.

She turned off the holoprojector that was playing a documentary on Korriban’s most popular Sith choral group. “I don’t recall giving you permission to rummage through my ship’s computer code, HK.”

He stood at attention. “Protestation: Miss Vette gave me full access, Master. I am to oversee computer security in her absence, she said. For a meatbag, she has a remarkable skill for code manipulation.”

Xhareen shrugged. “Thankfully, or you would have probably shot us all dead by now.”

HK turned his head in thought for a moment. “Rumination: Not you, Master. Not you.” Then he dismissed himself and walked off in the direction of the cargo bay.

Xhareen wasn’t sure how HK-51 was related to HK-47, the even more determined meatbag exterminator she had met on the Foundry pursuing the prisoner purporting to be Revan. Perhaps one day, she mused, she might try to figure out just how the Revan she'd met on that mission squared with the Revan she'd heard about while she stayed with his devotees on Dromund Kaas.

It seemed like a lifetime ago she was there, like a story she'd heard about someone else, not like an important part of her life. It was the first time she'd ever been told it was possible to honor both sides of the Force, information considered so heretical, it was whispered even in the camp located a thousand kilometers from Kaas City.

She remembered how close she had felt to Lladra, even though other Revanites thought her insane. Lladra wasn't in any way compromised: She had seen the inner workings of the Dark Side, those quiet caves of hidden knowledge and ecstasy that had nothing to do with murder or unrestrained hedonism. She had been as close to the heart of Love as any cloistered Jedi who sought it out from the other side.

 And then there was Lord Darkspanner, worshipped by some as the embodiment of Revan. Xhareen was never sure about that part of the ideology, but she respected Darkspanner and all she had sought to do. It had been hard passing the information along to Baras for his selfish ends, and she was grateful the cultists had been able to escape capture.

She was concerned, however, how insular they were. People could lose themselves in how the group operated and what it demanded of them. Some had lost their lives in the trials, too.

But there was some kernel of familiarity Xhareen had felt with them. And it took her many months to shake it, too.

At some point, she vowed to ask HK what he might know about his former owner. For now, though, she turned her attention to the reports pouring in from High Command about Ilum.

One of them made her gasp so loud, Kayda heard her from the medbay and came running. "You OK?"

"Yes, sure. Sorry, I just read that Ilum is colder than Hoth and the night and day cycle is eight months long. Just took me aback."

"I hated Hoth," Kayda said. "I mean, I made sure to sleep alone as little as possible, so that part was nice, but there should be a law against sending anyone from DK there."

Xhareen laughed nervously, hoping Kayda couldn't see the author's name on the report in front of her before the screen on the datapad powered itself down to save its charge. "We should trade war stories later, Kay," Xhareen said, hoping she'd get the hint.

"I do know we'll need to make sure our rations are sufficient. I hear most people need at least twice their normal caloric intake just keep up their body temperature."

"I'm sure the soldiers will have it figured out for us."

"You're right," Kayda said. "Anyway, if you're OK, I've got a pile of reports of my own to read. But an early dinner would be great."

"Sounds like a plan," Xhareen said.

When Kayda was safely back in the medbay, Xhareen picked the datapad back up and shook it so the screen came back. It was a report on dealing with Duros shocktroopers. Authored by "Major M. Quinn, Commander, Second Battalion, Fifth Army, Assigned to Operation Dark Ice, Ilum, Unknown Regions. Security Clearance Level Besh-2."

She sighed. But she read the entire thing. Twice.

~~~~~

Xhareen got little sleep that last night before they arrived at the planet, a day ahead of schedule. She wondered first if there was going to be some way, any way, she could avoid Quinn and then immediately wondered if there was any chance they'd have time to at least talk about everything that had happened.

She decided to adopt Kayda's dread about this assignment, but she also hoped she wouldn't be met with Quinn's icy silence, either. She hated when he retreated from unpleasant emotions, and she hated more being the reason for it.

Xhareen's trepidation about Ilum melted the moment she touched ground off the shuttle and looked upward.

There were still two Imperial Standard months left of this night cycle, and the Empire hoped to be done by the time daylight returned. Apparently, the first few Imperial standard days after the sun returned the light was so intense it could kill; after that, the brief warming such as it was created enough evaporation vapor that it cast a thick atmospheric haze to keep the deadly sun at bay. Large chunks of suspended ice crystals fell as deadly hail. During that time of transition, all animal life hid in the vast cave networks all over the planet and the sentient residents were confined to their bases.

But for now, the dark sky was painted with uncountable stars and vapor trails and punctuated planetside with structures so stark they had to be vast art installations, not naturally formed.

"I hear there's an observatory inside the base," Kayda said. Although they were all covered head to foot in cold weather gear so advanced, it required a high security clearance to even put it on, Kayda was determined to spend as few seconds outside in it as possible.

Broonmark and Treek were given special helmets to keep their eyes safe, and had warmers installed into their chestplates to radiate heat through their fur. Broonmark didn’t need them, but Treek had gladly accepted a pair of insulated boots. HK had insisted he needed no modifications, but Xhareen secretly wished she had someone like Vette or Quinn who could have monitored him to make sure that was true.

"Yeah, I'm heading in," Xhareen said. But she took one last look before she got into the enclosed speeder that would carry them the short distance to the base entrance.

They debarked and were met by various Imperial military advisers. "Moff Regus was expecting you tomorrow," a young Chiss female who introduced herself as Lt. Ha’atal. “But that’s good for you. Gives you a day to get settled in. I’m sure you’ll be wanting to meet with the other Sith contingent, my lord?”

Other Sith? None of her briefings mentioned that.

“Of course, but can I ask, are you with the Second Battalion, lieutenant?”

“No, my lord. I am here with a small contingent directly from the Ascendancy. The Second Battalion mustered out two days ago. Or at least, what’s left of it.”

Her heart jumped up into her throat. “What’s left of it, what does that mean?”

“I’m not privy to all the details, but I believe it was divided into new units. Their commander and one group was sent elsewhere, not sure where. The rest – all the humans, it’s rumored – are still here, guarding against further incursions into Empire territory. But you’ll get a full briefing tomorrow.”

It would take at least an hour before her stomach returned to its normal position.

“Sure, fine. Take me to the Sith, then.”

“Yes, my lord. They’re in a series of rooms near where you and your team will bunk. And lucky you, near the cantina.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm no meteorologist or exoplanet expert, so I can't claim too much SCIENCE! went into the explanation of Ilum's day/night cycle. However, it is ridiculous and extra, and that is entirely Star Wars-appropriate.


	61. The Light, The Heat (In Your Eyes)

She saw his eyes first. Not surprising – they were eyes meant for a climate like this, cold as long dead bones. Then his smile, warm as the industrial heaters that dotted the base’s interior.

But why was it, Xhareen wondered, that she always noticed the eyes first in a man?

In a woman, there were so many things as interesting, if not more so. Her voice – was it strong? Was it soft? Did she sing? What about her hair, her walk, her smile? She’d spent a whole night with a woman before and could not have said, come morning, what color her eyes were. But she could tell you the average pitch of her laugh, she could tell you every shade in her hair, she could tell you every curve and angle to describe her thighs.

The man in front of her was very likely the reason she always associated men with their eyes. Which she had also done with Quinn, those obscene blue eyes atop those impossible cheekbones. Quinn had been so jealous of the man walking toward her since before they were even a couple and yet now, he wouldn’t take her holocalls or answer her emails.

No matter. There’s nothing like the present, and in the present, the warmest red eyes in the galaxy were looking only at her. This wasn’t going to go anywhere, but it was nice to be wanted.

 “Hello, Beautiful,” he said, his hands outstretched. She didn’t take them, slipping instead inside his arms and waiting for him to hug her. Which he did.

“Good to see you, too, dove,” he said.

Xhareen backed away.

“You’ve cut your hair,” he said. “And someone here’s going to be awfully disappointed you’ve got a new visor.”

Before she could ask what he meant, another familiar voice called out: “Well what do you know? It’s Screenface!”

Xhareen turned to see her old friend Myroli, a Mirialan also from Covenant. As young children, they’d shared a shuttle to Dromund Kaas, both being sent to Darth Neveris for training. They’d been friends ever since, though sometimes it was hard to tell.

Myroli had come to Xhareen and Quinn’s aid after Moff Broysc was apprehended. Her lover, Andronikos, had seen to disposing of the body and getting “some old pirate pals” to take credit for it. Xhareen had given him a lot of credits to pay them off, but they took just a pittance toward “actual expenses,” since they were all too happy to have the bothersome moff out of their affairs.

But Myroli had a true dark side with rough edges sometimes. And she loved to tease.

When Xhareen turned around, she pointed her hands at her face. “No more screen, my unripened friend.”

“Hmm, after all these years. I guess I’ll have to figure out something else to call you now.” She rubbed her chin.

“You’ve got new tattoos. I want to hear all about them,” Xhareen said. “And, I’m sure you’ll both be happy to hear, the drinks are on me!”

 

~~~~~

Releah stared down into his drink. Myroli excused herself to go to the refresher.

“I’m sorry for what happened with your Imperial, I truly am. I can’t believe I was wrong about the two of you,” he said when they were alone. Xhareen had shared just the highlights of her troubles with Quinn, the miscarriage and the fight they had had.

“He seemed on edge when I spoke to him the other day,” Releah said. “But he gave no indication you two were done.”

“I haven’t given up hope and don’t worry, I won’t beg you to tag along with me this time,” she said.

“It’s fine. I’m sort of involved, if you can call it that. A former Jedi. She’s staying on Tatooine for the moment.”

“Wow, aren’t we a pair!” Xhareen said. “Though mine’s just a close friend.”

An awkward silence fell over the table.

“So, what are you really doing here, Releah? It’s not just about the war effort, is it?”

“I can’t hide anything from you, can I, dove?” He laughed and took a long sip from his drink, some mixed concoction he said was supposed to warm the blood. Xhareen had opted for an ale instead.

“What I can say is this: There’s more here than some bloody power crystals. They’re what the military want. But the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge wants us to investigate rumors of some ancient civilization’s artifacts that predate the Jedi presence. Roli’s even brought her archaeologist along.”

“She has her own personal archaeologist?” Xhareen asked.

“You bet I do,” Myroli said, coming up from behind her. “Straight laced and by the book like your major. I bet they would have gotten along famously.”

Xhareen shrugged. “It’s like I don’t know him anymore. He never let anything just drop. I can’t believe he hates me that much.”

“Maybe that little lieutenant of his has a crush on him. Maybe she’s intercepting your messages so she can steal him for herself,” Myroli said.

“Roli, you’re a monster!” Releah said, not amused at all.

“Balls, Xhareen. I’m sorry, that was mean, even for me.”

Xhareen had put her hands over her face and it took them both a moment to realize she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

“Thank you, both of you,” she said when she could speak again. “I needed a good laugh.”

“What the kriff, Xhareen?” Releah demanded.

“I guarantee Quinn would never get involved with someone under him in his command. And I would pity any poor soul who had a crush on him,” she said, still giggling.

“Well, when it comes to the three of us, it’s not like we can talk,” Myroli said. “I hear Zavaa’s got an interesting catch, care to update us on that?”

 

~~~~~

In the morning, it was time for the briefing with the grand moff. Xhareen put her new eye covering on over her visor. It took a minute for her vision to resolve, but it was as Dr. Lokin had promised, no interference with the visor.

She had no intention of hiding her origins today. She was no longer a disgraced apprentice. She was the Emperor’s Wrath, she was a Miralukan and an Imperial colonist and Regus had to accept that.

Regus insisted on speaking to her alone, according to the memo on her datapad that greeted her when she woke up.

“My lord,” Regus greeted her. He motioned to two chairs near the middle of the room. Two cups of caff sat on a small table between the chairs.

She had barely sat down when Regus began, “My lord, I need to make one thing clear before we begin. I do not question the Dark Council’s acceptance of you as the Emperor’s Wrath. Those are Sith dealings I make no pretense of understanding.

“But I find the sudden inclusion of aliens in my ranks dangerous and disturbing. It upsets unit cohesion …”

“Do you have any proof of that? That it has in any way caused a breakdown of discipline?” After reading Malavai’s report on fighting the Duros, she checked out some of his other reports as well. They showed the exact opposite.

“If you poll the troops, they will say they are against inclusion.” Clearly, Regus was not going to let evidence deter him.

“And yet the one unit where this has been tested has reported no incidents. And, if I read the documentation correctly, this unit has the fewest casualties in the time since it was organized.”

Regus’s cheeks reddened – not the quaint bloom of embarrassment, but the dark, ruddy stain of shame.

“Nevertheless,” he said. “I will make no judgments about your Sith contingent or how you get the job done. But it will be much easier on all of us if you take care of this matter without military backup.”

“Plausible deniability, that’s what it’s called, Moff Regus,” she countered. “And while I’m certain the Empire will progress with or without your approval, I prefer to focus on more tangible objectives. What is it you need me and my colleagues to do for you?”

Regus exhaled, and though he would never admit it, Xhareen knew he was glad to have the issue set aside. She reached for the caff cup in front of her. Someone had made it exactly to her liking: no whitener, and a sufficient amount of sweetener.

“There are two objectives we have left to complete,” Regus began. “We need to secure our Adegan crystal mines. The largest one was taken over a few days ago by a band of savage —a band of Kaleesh warriors nominally tied to the Republic. I understand one of your Sith colleagues has a Kaleesh apprentice.”

That was Myroli, who had taken on an apprentice named Xalek. He fought with a doublestaff like Jaesa did and both had expressed interest in getting in some sparring time together.

Xhareen wondered if Regus would be so brazenly xenophobic around Myroli as he was around her.

“Yes, I will appropriate him for my mission, along with my own people.”

“Yes, yes, fine. I’m sure it will provide you with important insights. Darth Malgus wishes to brief you personally on dealing with their kind. I’ll patch you in when we’re done. He and I disagree about how to accomplish regaining the mines. I believe sending in troops to shoot every last one of them would be the most efficacious; Malgus has some demented notion the savag ... the Kaleesh can be bargained with.”

“The only person who cannot be bargained with is the one who refuses to listen,” Xhareen said, quoting a favorite saying of Darth Neveris. “I’m assuming the Republic found a way to negotiate, and so can we.”

“That will not be up to me,” Regus retorted. “Moving on. The second objective is to take out the Republic’s prototype anti-spacecraft weapon, the ELX-25. We need to get a large contingent of Imperial ships here for retrofitting with the new Adegan stealth technology. We don’t have the manufacturing capability anywhere else just yet.”

Regus went on at length about the ELX and its capabilities and suspected location. Other than the realities of traveling across a cold, desolate landscape, taking it out should not present a problem.

“That concludes what I have to say, my lord. I will patch you in to Darth Malgus,” he said. He manipulated the holocomm and as Darth Malgus’s figure appeared, Regus left the room.

“Lord Wrath,” Malgus said. “I’m glad we can have this chance to speak alone.”

“I’m listening, Darth Malgus.”

“Wrath, I protected you when Baras would have had you killed. I’m asking you to ignore Regus’s assessment of how to deal with the Kaleesh. I spent time on Kalee, and theirs is a warrior culture like the Sith of old.

“If you come to their warlord as a Kalee challenger would, you could demand as the price of your victory that the Kaleesh switch allegiance to our side. To do that, you need to gather a series of relics and place them at an altar that will be in the heart of their stronghold. You need to do this with stealth or be killed.

“If you fail in this, Regus will take it as a sign that killing them all is the way to go. I believe this would be detrimental to the Empire, rejuvenated now that our old emperor has left us.”

“I promise you, Malgus, I won’t let that happen,” Xhareen said.

“I have come to believe you will always deliver on your word, Wrath. I have matters to attend to before we can bring the fleet here. If we do not speak before our victory is complete, I wish you good hunting.”

The holo went dark before Xhareen could respond. She drained her caff with no small measure of foreboding. Malgus seemed to have more on his mind than crystals and mines and retrofitting schemes, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it might be.


	62. Betrayed. Again.

Myroli’s apprentice Xalek proved to be an indispensable asset in locating the Kaleesh trophies she needed to gather before issuing the challenge to their warlord. The Kaleesh were holed up in a cave complex about 85 kilometers west of the secondary Imperial basecamp. They sanctified the cave, Xalek said, by hiding the items in it, a task completed by the warlord’s most trusted subordinate. Any Kaleesh who wished to make a challenge would have to find them first as well.

Xhareen had expected to fight Gelrex when she was done laying out the challenge, but that was not the case. He called his subordinate – the one of his people who could never challenge Gelrex honorably, since he knew the location of the artifacts and to do so in this manner would be considered cowardly and cheating. Then he told Xhareen to issue her challenge or make her demand.

Xhareen laid out her proposal: Join the Empire, protect the cave, be paid handsomely as mercenaries and, if anyone wanted, she would see to it they were allowed to join the military. If any were Force sensitives, she would recommend them to Korriban for training.

Though Gelrex was their warleader and his word was law, he still wanted to discuss the Empire’s proposal with his people.

Xhareen’s team stayed together in a small room kept warm by heaters stolen equally from Republic and Imperial sources. They traded stories and songs, mostly to cover the sounds coming from the main room – shouting, war cries and pounding – that seemed to be integral to Kaleesh discussions.

When Gelrex returned with the news of universal acceptance of the Empire’s terms, he invited Xhareen and her team to stay and celebrate.

There was much alcohol and grilled meat of indeterminate origin. The Kaleesh favored warming spices in everything they consumed, and the food, drink and odd company made for a jovial night. Eventually, everyone but Broonmark politely snuck away to an old barracks with beds whose durasteel frames were stamped with Republic insignia. But they were clean, flat and warm and it was a pleasant way to sleep off the hospitality. Xhareen didn’t see Broonmark again until the next morning, Imperial time. He was still sitting around a fire in a barrel, slapping his knee and snorting – a sound she’d come to know as his way of laughing.

They were going to head back in a few hours, after the wind died down. Xhareen and Gelrex were going over further points of the deal with the Empire when the sentries gave out a wailing cry and within seconds, all the Kaleesh were armed and heading for the front of the mine.

The Republic, it seemed, was coming to haul out a load of mined crystals. Together with the Kaleesh, Xhareen, Jaesa, Broonmark, Treek and HK-51 eliminated them in short order. The Kaleesh sent back the commander’s body wrapped in an Imperial banner. Xhareen wasn’t sure how the Kaleesh had gotten a hold of the banner, and she wasn’t going to ask.

With their loyalty assured, Xhareen made her way back to the base.

But she wasn’t ready to go back inside just yet. She bade the others go on, and wait for her on the lower level in the cantina.

~~~~~

The Fifth Army/Second Battalion called a series of bunkers just north of the main base home. She stepped inside the smallest of the bunkers, and took a deep breath.

Malavai had breathed this same air, just a few days ago.

She took another deep breath, this time to calm herself. She ran through her litany – _Motivation_ , _Dispassion_ , _Connection_ , _Peace_ ; this was no place to get mushy over her missing husband.

A human woman with flame-colored hair pinned into a severe bun stood before a large computer console. The desk behind her had a holo-map of the planet at one end, and a holoterminal at the other. A series of neatly stacked datapads inhabited the space in between.

She smiled. Surely, Quinn’s influence.

The woman turned and jumped slightly. “My lord? We weren’t expecting a debrief until tomorrow.”

“Are you Major Embrey?” Releah’s description had been spot on.

“Yes, my lord.” She bowed.

“I’m not here with the Sith contingent. I … just wanted to see where Maj. Quinn was stationed.”

The major’s eyes brightened and she smiled. “You must be Lord Wrath, the major’s, I mean Maj. Quinn’s wife.”

“That’s correct. I understand I just missed him.”

“Bloody war is like that. My husband is Maker knows where right now, too.”

“You don’t know where Maj. Quinn went?”

She shook her head. “Classified. Eyes Only. Though I’m sure you could find out.”

Xhareen smiled. “Perhaps I shall. I have one favor to ask of you, Maj. Embrey.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Survive. Keep these people alive who rely on you now.”

Embrey nodded and bowed again. “I will my lord. We didn’t serve together very long, when you think about it, but Maj. Quinn taught us all one important lesson: We need each other.

“We survived defending the mines on Corellia because nearly half of our alien contingent had served in mines all over the galaxy. Some as slaves, most as virtually slaves. They taught us tricks that no training manual ever thought to include. Why? Because we were all soldiers. Even now. We’re all soldiers, together. They are still our family, just temporarily assigned elsewhere. I will do whatever it takes to keep their bravery on everyone’s minds and this unit together, my lord.”

When she found her voice again, Xhareen said, “Thank you, Major. Carry on.”

Now she was ready to go back and face Regus.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As it was, Regus now had more to keep him occupied than worrying about alien alliances. A scouting report claimed the Republic was readying the ELX for an attack, even though there were no Imperial ships currently in orbit around the planet.

Though primarily designed for attacking ships, the ELX was fully capable of surface-to-surface attacks. Whether it could penetrate Imperial shield technology protecting the two main bases on the planet was unknown.

“Clearly, the Republic must think they can penetrate our shields or they wouldn’t fire the weapon and let its location be confirmed,” Xhareen observed.

“More importantly, they think they can launch sufficient firepower quickly enough to destroy us before that even becomes a concern,” Regus said.

“Then we need to stop this weapon before that happens,” Xhareen said.

“Yes, I’m hoping your team and the Sith contingent can do just that. Since our scouts located the facility supporting the weapon – an old fortified cave – we’ll send you there first to lower the defensive shields, and then the Imperial Guard strike force will take out the weapon.”

It was a good plan. It worked. Broonmark even got to take out a host of Talz troops. They’d even managed to capture a Republic Admiral, named Shai. Xhareen’s first instinct had been to kill him, and she wasn’t sure it had been wise to let him lecture her on the futility of the Empire’s quest for the stealth technology.

Some of what he said, before Kaleesh troopers took him away, she couldn’t shake. “The Empire will fail because it insists on being a set of privileged individuals, rather than a true citizenship. Because it insists on pushing everyone else to the margins. We pull the weak up, and become stronger as a result.”

There was no fear in his eyes when he was hauled off.

The Republic might have lost Ilum, but they had strengths the Empire could not yet counter that had nothing to do with superior firepower.

~~~~~

The first wave of Imperial ships to be retrofitted for the stealth technology arrived hours later. The process took just over 30 hours, but it went smoothly, according to Regus’s adjutant.

Word went out that most of the base personnel and the Second Battalion would be re-assigned. A new ship-preparation facility was being constructed, and they would be sent there after a brief liberty on Vaiken.

Everyone at the base was celebrating when, all at once, holocomms crackled to life.

It was Malgus.

“Fellow Sith. Citizens of the Empire. Too long, the strength of the Empire has been beholden to the infighting of the Dark Council and the disappearance of an apathetic emperor.

“Sith, children of Sith and warriors everywhere: I declare a new Empire open to all who long for conquest, freedom from inhibition and a right to follow their passions.

“The Dark Council is dissolved. Those who would join Darth Serevin in supporting me, cast aside your titles and let me lead you to victory.

“Those who will not, prepare to face our stealth armada.”

The image momentarily flickered as the base was rocked by an intensive bombing.

Malgus continued: “The only existing stealth technology is now in my hands. The Emperor is gone. His station and his power are mine. We will conquer the galaxy while the Emperor sleeps. Do not find yourself on the wrong side of history. Malgus out.”

Xhareen ran out of the cantina area just as Regus and a contingent of his top officers were walking toward the auxiliary control center.

“Lord Wrath, join us,” Regus said.

The situation report was depressing. Malgus had not only destroyed the re-fitting facility planetside, he had removed all the important technology first and absconded with tons of crystals. The first wave of ships that had been outfitted were gone, too.

He had let the Empire build his stealth armada for him. Now, he had that and the Emperor’s orbital station under his control, presumably also with a manufacturing center of its own. The station was now nowhere to be found.

Darth Marr and the war council beamed into the room via holo. Xhareen was pleased to see General Hesker of the Imperial Guard there in person, as well. Admiral Zasha Rankin had arrived with the initial round of ships to be fitted with the stealth technology and was fuming that they had been stolen from her.

Xhareen briefed them on her experiences with Malgus and Serevin, including the latter’s public protestations about filthy aliens but his seeming affair with a mystic on Voss. Regus snorted when she revealed that.

“We need to beware. Any top Imperial or Sith could be an agent of Malgus’s and needs to be rooted out,” Darth Marr said. “But our top priority is to uncover Malgus’s whereabouts. Contact me immediately when you have a plan.”

Hesker was the first to speak after the council connection closed. “We have identified a base we previously thought was a Republic facility on the far side of the planet. We believe Malgus still has troops there, waiting to stage an attack on our positions to get access to the already opened mines.

“We also believe they have at least one stealth vessel there, to ferry whatever remaining command personnel are left behind back to the cloaked orbital station,” Hesker said.

“The next wave of ships that were to have been retrofitted will be here in less than six hours. We can mount a full-scale attack instead,” Rankin said.

“That may be too late, Admiral,” Hesker said. “My squadron is more than capable of providing air support to a strike team.”

Rankin nodded. “Then that would be my recommendation, Regus,” she said.

“Lord Wrath, can you have your team and your Sith brethren ready in 15 minutes?” Regus asked.

Xhareen nodded. “We’ll be ready in 10.”

 


	63. The False Emperor

Xhareen made certain Regus saw the assembled strike team before it boarded a shuttle to Hesker’s position: A Miraluka; a Talz; an Ewok, as she had finally learned Treek’s people were called; an advanced combat droid of unknown origin; two Chiss, one Mirialan, and three human Sith, none of them born on Korriban or Dromund Kaas; Myroli’s Kaleesh apprentice; a former Jedi; and finally, a lone human Imperial citizen, Kayda.

She also made sure he heard them as they joined hands and shouted, “For the Empire!” in six different languages. She would have given anything to have Vette here to hack Regus’s implant and make sure he heard them all (which would have been seven, with Vette around).

As it was, victory would be her best revenge.

Less than an hour later, Xhareen reconsidered her gloating when she saw the sheer number of troops and personnel, nearly equally made up of defectors from the Empire and Republic as well as those aligned with neither.

What was it about Malgus? From all her experience with him, and what she had learned of his past, he was a near perfect embodiment of the Dark Side, smart and goal-driven and occasionally unafraid to be cruel. He wasn’t charismatic, either. And Serevin was more of a fawning sycophant, although his deceptive cover as a full-blown Pureblood xenophobe had taken everyone in.

It pained her to be forced to fight through fellow Sith and Imperial officers, and she pitied the others as well. But it also nagged at her soul that someone had been able to come up with a cause that could unite the ever-warring factions when Force users, soldiers and civilians could not.

Malgus likely assumed Xhareen would join him. That would be his downfall.

~~~~~

Now, Darth Serevin and his apprentice were all that stood between her people and the shuttle they could use to infiltrate Malgus’s new stronghold.

The Voss Xhareen had seen him kissing was with him in the hangar; she called herself Talsa-Ko.

“Only one vision is certain,” she said before the fight, with eerie calm. “You fought. I watched and bowed to the victor.”

Serevin walked with a swagger Xhareen had not witnessed on Voss. “I shot down your pesky attack squadron. Hope they weren’t friends of yours,” he boasted.

Xhareen didn’t want to hear any more. She lunged and began the attack. For all his hypocritical, creepy ways, he was a powerful opponent.

But once they had Serevin defeated, she acquiesced. “Spare me, and my people join the Empire,” she begged.

Before she could answer, Hesker hailed her. “I knew you’d survive, General,” Xhareen said. “Inform Regus that Serevin is dead and we have the shuttle.”

“Excellent,” Hesker replied. “Imperial forces have moved in and are securing the fort. What should we do with the survivors?”

“Round them up. Show them that the true Empire can be merciful, too,” she said.

_And maybe, help the Empire learn the error of its ways._

~~~~~

The Emperor’s orbital station – a structure as vast and as fortified as Vaiken – had been moved to a position just beyond the Stygian Caldera that formed a partial barrier around the core Sith worlds. As it was just hours away from the center of the Imperial fleet, they would be converging on the site after the strike team dealt with Malgus and disabled the stealth technology, and take back the ships he had stolen above Ilum.

Hesker had plans of the station as it had been when the Emperor occupied it, but there was no way of knowing how Malgus had altered it.

Hesker piloted the shuttle into its assigned hangar. Even though it had been assigned to Malgus’s supposed right hand, the hangar was still a dozen decks below the throne room where Xhareen had no doubt Malgus would be.

As she exited, Hesker pulled her aside. “My lord, in the Emperor’s … absence, you remain the sole manifestation of his presence among us.” He took her hand in his and kissed it; it was not erotic, but his sudden admiration and obedience gave her a thrill she did not want to admit.

“No, General, respectfully. I am a child of the Empire, as are we all. Malgus gained control because he recognized the strength of the Empire, though it emanates from our Sith heritage, is dependent on its people. He has found a way to tap into resources we’ve denied ourselves. I want to preserve the Empire, but, between you and me, it needs to do the same.”

Hesker, still holding her hand, nodded. “When Malgus is a rotting corpse, we should discuss this further, my lord. I am not in disagreement, and there are many among us who feel the same way. I would never betray my position, however, and I will not let you down, either.” He bowed, deeply, and waited for his command shuttle, which would land once the battle inside had begun. He would exit the bay and protect it from the outside, should any other of Malgus's ships appear.

Xhareen took only Jaesa and other the Sith with her into the station. The rest were to remain and guard the shuttle, their only escape. Kayda and HK protested, but Xhareen assured her that there were Sith with healing abilities in the group who could assist anyone in need until they returned to the shuttle.

“Consternation: This entire station vibrates with a frequency my processors find familiar, Master. I should accompany you,” HK said.

“When we’ve taken Malgus, I promise HK, you and I will take the grand tour together,” Xhareen said.

~~~~~

Getting to Malgus was more of a chore than the Sith team had expected. Hesker’s plans weren’t useless, but they were clearly outdated. Four whole levels had been eliminated to create a massive manufacturing center that reminded Xhareen of the Foundry, where Revan had been held prisoner.

Releah nudged her at one point and whispered in her ear: “Remember that secret mission I’ve been on for over a year now? I think this has something to do with it.” He looked as concerned as she felt about this place.

They were two levels below the throne room when they encountered one Arkis Wode, an Anomid scientist and, by his own admission, the architect of this “New Foundry.” He was even accompanied by a rebuilt version of HK-47, and Xhareen regretted leaving her HK behind.

“It is a pity, my lords, that none of you will be alive to see our stealth fleet demolish your inbound Imperial friends,” he said, ordering HK-47 to attack.

But the droid was eventually taken down, unable to fend off simultaneous assaults from nine Sith fighters. A terrified Wode even agreed to sabotage the station’s hangars to keep a large portion of the stealth fleet from being able to exit the ship.

Xhareen left Wode tied up to a post well away from his research station and they made their way to Malgus’s throne room.

~~~~~

He was waiting for them.

Malgus had modified this room as well, adding a good deal of technology that Vitiate would have had no use for. The conspirators must have been here for many months, even before the attack at the Dark Temple.

They were met on the floor in front of a grand staircase leading to the throne by several dozen troops in Imperial Guard red uniforms. There was no way to tell if any of the traitors were actual Guards or if they were, like Malgus, simply pretenders.

“I knew we’d meet again, Lord Wrath,” Malgus said, his voice amplified by some means and filling the huge, cavernous room.

“Welcome to my throne room.” He stood up and gave a broad, grand wave with his arms. “So much history. So many glory days that slipped away from us.

“The Emperor is dead. Long live the new Emperor.”

At that, the fake Guards all knelt down and chanted “Long live Emperor Malgus!”

Xhareen was ready to cut a path through all of them and throw Malgus down into the yawning abyss on either side of the broad walkway leading to the staircase.

“You have no right to that chair, Malgus,” Xhareen said.

“The Empire is withering away, Wrath, brought down by decadence and antiquated ways. And yet you, an alien, accompanied by so many other strong alien Sith, would see it continue to remain sick and weak.

“I know you see it. Our survival demands a new Empire, tempered by alien alliances and strengthened by tolerance.”

“You may have a point, Malgus, but you’ve gone about it in the wrong way. You surround yourself with sycophants and you hide behind stolen technology. The Dark Council will write you off as a traitor, and no one will listen to your message,” Xhareen said. “You’ve set back our cause, not advanced it. And I don’t recall there being a galactic alien conclave where you, a _human_ , were elected to be our savior, either.

“You’re doing this for your own glory, not the Empire’s, not for any of our people, and we will not stand for it.”

With that, Xhareen ignited her light sabers and as Malgus went for his, Releah and Myroli sent a barrage of crates and machinery at him, which he repulsed with a strong Force blast.

Xhareen leapt over the kneeling guards, who then were engaged by the rest of the attacking Sith.

Malgus landed at the foot of the grand staircase and he and Xhareen traded attacks. When the guards were all dispatched, one of the human Sith on Releah’s squad leapt toward Malgus.

He pushed her over the side of the walkway, down hundreds of meters to her death.

“This fight is between me and the Wrath, the last vestige of a weak, absentee emperor,” he bellowed.

Xhareen waved them off. She knew none of them would hesitate to jump in if they got a chance, and so she made it her goal to give them one if she couldn’t finish Malgus on her own.

She leapt once again, this time up the staircase and onto the area at the base of the throne. Malgus immediately followed and as he landed, sent her back into the transparisteel viewport so hard, she momentarily imagined herself floating in space.

It made her think of the nightmares she’d had since the transponder station of Quinn, being tossed through the bulkhead and into the vacuum of space, calling her name as he died.

Though she had been working so hard on controlling her rage, she now reversed her calming process and mustered enough to return the favor to Malgus.

He tumbled down the staircase, but was up again by the time she followed him.

They traded a flurry of light saber strikes. Though Xhareen was considerably younger and had natural athletic strength to support her Force ability, Malgus had decades of practicing his unfettered Dark Side powers. He was a master of his own anger and passion and greed, bundling it up and powering every swing, every bolt of lightning and every Force push with an energy she had never seen before.

She had lost so much, but she could not muster her rage the way he did.

“What is it you’ve lost, Malgus?" she asked. "What drives you to save us when we didn’t ask for it? You could have easily made your case to the council and I would have backed you up. Hells, even Regus acknowledged the need for alien soldiers. Ziost is taking in alien refugees and workers and new recruits from all over the galaxy. You could have had your way in two or three months and after that, challenged Marr for his seat as adjudicator. You could have controlled the council like Baras did and in six months all told, been Emperor in all but name.”

Malgus jumped backward away from Xhareen up onto the staircase and put up his hand. “In six months, the Empire will be defeated. I wasn’t going to just sit on my backside and wait for the Republic fleet to surround Dromund Kaas or defile Korriban. And I owe you no explanations for my motivation other than that.”

He was getting winded, she noticed. He might have been the most physically capable member of the Dark Council, but his old wounds were going to be his end, and soon.

While he was still distracted, Releah sent a wave of purple, thready lightning at him, and Myroli followed with a burst of Force energy like an exploding Huttball.

Malgus screamed and returned a blast of energy at Releah, sending him over the edge of the walkway.

Without thinking, Xhareen dropped her weapons and jumped after him.

They both landed on a platform about 20 meters below the walkway, next to the body of Releah’s human colleague.

“Kareen was one of the best scholars I ever met, but she never mastered how to cushion her landings,” he said, placing his hand on her broken body.

“Come on, let’s get back up there,” Xhareen said. She could hear Myroli’s screams as she engaged Malgus.

“You know I can’t jump that high, dove,” he said. “Maybe you can, but I cannot.”

“I’m not leaving you down here and I’m going back up there to finish what I started. We can leap to that strut over there and climb the rest of the way. I’ll carry you on my back if I have to,” she said.

Just then, a length of heavy black rope hit her in the head. She looked up to see Jaesa on the other end of it.

“Hurry up, you two. Myroli won’t last much longer against him. The others are helping her but you both are needed.”

“Thank the Maker for apprentices, huh?” Releah said with a grin.

Xhareen tied the rope around her waist and between the Force and Jaesa, she was quickly pulled back up to the walkway. She tossed the rope back down to Releah and as Jaesa pulled, she willed a ball of protective Force energy to propel him upward.

Once he was safe, she retrieved her lightsabers and ran back to the fight.

Malgus was clearly worn down but he was also fighting like a cornered nexu. Xhareen tossed her mainhand weapon at him and he ducked, giving Myroli time to fall back.

“Your fight is with me, as you said, Malgus. Let’s finish what you started,” she yelled.

“You cannot defeat me, Wrath, nor can you defeat what I started. My followers will carry out my wishes and attack the Empire from within. My message will not be silenced.”

And with that, he waved his hand at one of the computer consoles at the foot of the staircase. A loud klaxon began to sound.

“ _Warning! Self-destruct sequence engaged. You have six minutes to evacuate and reach minimum safe distance_ ,” the cold, female voice intoned.

“Do you hear that, Wrath? Your ships will be destroyed. The Empire will be left helpless.”

“You’ll die, too, coward. Turn that thing off.”

He laughed. “I cannot. With me, or without me, the Empire will be reborn. And for that, my followers will keep me alive forever.”

It was time to end this. She had to get everyone to safety, including the crew down at the hangar and Arkis Wode, if possible. She had to focus and she had to prevail. She took a deep breath.

_Motivation: Save the Empire. Save my friends._

_Dispassion: My enemy is vulnerable and can be taken._

_Connection: It is my duty._

_Peace._

No, that was useless right now. She needed her rage, all of it, but she needed it under control.

_Resolve: Malgus is not going to win. No one else needs to die. Malgus, it will be you hurling through the cold death of space, not anyone I love._

She took a deep breath as red Force energy surrounded her. She hurled herself upward, her weapons raised and when she landed, they landed in Malgus’s massive chest.

She followed through with her strike, the marks cutting deep gouges in the platform itself.

He was gasping for air when she knelt next to him.

“ _Warning! Self-destruct sequence engaged. You have five minutes to evacuate and reach minimum safe distance_.”

“Wrath, you cannot escape now. Admit at the very least I am correct.”

“Tell me who she was, Malgus. Tell me who it was that inspired you.”

He coughed and wheezed. “No, just know that I loved her.”

And with that, he fell unconscious.

“The Jedi say there is no death, only the Force. I hope you are prepared,” Xhareen whispered, then she Force pushed his body across the walkway and down, down into the abyss below. 

Jaesa was immediately at her side. “The others are in the shuttle, Wode, too. HK recovered him. We have to get there, quickly,” she said.

“We need to reclaim Kareen’s body,” Xhareen said.

But then she looked, and Myroli and the others had already done it. Releah was carrying her body toward the exit.

“Let’s get going then,” Xhareen said.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Jaesa replied.

“Jaesa, do you realize that, as time goes on, you sound more and more like Vette?”

“Let’s work through that one later, Master.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

~~~~~

Hesker met their shuttle as it exited the station, escorting them through the fleeing ships from his own command shuttle.

“Observation: We have two minutes to get to minimum safe distance, Master,” HK said.

“Are we going to make it?” Xhareen asked.

“Calculation: I’d put our chance of survival at 73.2 percent.”

“Good enough for me, punch it and let’s get back to Vaiken.”

~~~~~

By the time the blast wave hit the trailing ships in the fleet, the stealth fighter and Hesker’s ship had made it to safety. Only about a dozen vessels were lost, although two were dreadnaughts and eight thousand hands went down with them.

The Emperor’s orbital station and all the stealth manufacturing technology were obliterated. Malgus had gone down with his dream, but instead of saving the Empire he proclaimed to love, he had caused a deep, deep wound.

Xhareen slept soundly on the trip back to Vaiken. She knew there’d be debriefings to sit through, and she’d have to travel on to Dromund Kaas to address the council, but there’d be the company of friends along the way, a hot shower or two, good food and drink, and eventually, she’d be home again.

~~~~~

**END OF PART THREE**


	64. Dangerous Liaisons

**_Tolliver Broysc’s office, Dromund Kaas, six weeks later_ **

Tolliver Broysc enjoyed the nervous energy it took to be the workhorse behind the “genius” who ran Perelta Galactic Industries. He thrived on four hours’ sleep each night. He existed to solve problems. He enjoyed being able to untie the knots his sister’s “genius” kept getting them into. He expended most of his sexual energy finding ways to trap his competitors, whether through business dealings or in industrial espionage. The rest of his sexual energy he spent on actual spies. Male, female, any gender, any race. Paid or not. If they were in the game, they were welcome in his bed.

His wife didn’t mind. She got everything she wanted from the arrangement. Since she was a retired bounty hunter, she even spent major holidays with him because above all else, she understood the thrill her husband still chased. They’d managed 20 years of happy marriage this way and Tolliver never minded the other men she occasionally availed herself of.

She was smart, beautiful and discreet. That was all he asked of her.

But there was one of his conquests whose sheer evil exceeded his sexual allure. And that man stood before him now, improbably.

When Tolliver heard Voloren had been captured and sent to the House of Undesirables, he breathed a sigh of relief he worried might be heard round the Empire. Sure, the man was an amazing chameleon of a lover; no night with him was the same as any previous night. And Tolliver had known him since before he married Bethana.

But there was something clearly wrong with the man. Clearly outside even what spies, smugglers and scoundrels accepted as the norm. He had tried to initiate Tolliver in the “joys” of a rather sadistic form of pleasure, but Tolliver refused. Voloren deferred, but Tolliver never felt safe after that. Granted, that provided an allure all its own, but Sensible Tolliver – since that’s how everyone saw him outside the bedroom – kept him at arm’s length after that night. He had no delusions that his money, power, legitimacy and access to Imperial leaders saved him from something unspeakable.

Voloren gave no indication of any slight when he showed up in Tolliver’s office, out of nowhere. Tolliver had no time to check if he’d been released, or if he’d escaped. He knew which one he’d bet on, that’s for sure.

“Tolliver, my dearest,” Voloren hissed, as though he had not only swallowed a snake, but had swallowed everything it meant to be a snake. “I have a favor. I’m willing to do whatever you want to have you grant it to me.”

In the intervening year since their last dalliance, however, Tolliver had changed. Maybe he hadn’t grown as hardened as his sister naturally was, but he’d grown a much thicker skin than before. War had been good for the business, but the family’s situation would be much different if the Empire lost this one.

“I’ve no need of your carnal skills, Voloren. I do need to know what you want and what it’s actually going to cost me.”

Voloren’s dark eyebrows lifted, though not in unison. Tolliver’s stomach churned. It was a trait Voloren used to advantage and Tolliver knew he was no exception.

“I need to eliminate an enemy. I need your help.”

Tolliver allowed himself to sigh.

“My sister’s in pretty deep about something right now, Voloren. I’ve not got a lot of resources to spare, and I’m not interested in drawing any more attention from Sith Intelligence than I have to.”

Voloren moved up next to Tolliver, who waved him off.

“Ok, be that way,” Voloren said, backing off. “I can still help you both.”

“What do you mean? And don’t be coy. I don’t have the patience for that,” Tolliver snapped.

“Your sister’s problem is now my problem.”

“What do you mean, and more importantly, how do you know that?”

“I know people she knows. I’ve been in touch now that I am free of my Imperial shackles.”

Tolliver was not going to press him on that account. There was no doubt he’d escaped. Any poor soul can be tossed into Imperial prison; fear the one who escapes.

“What are you proposing?” Tolliver’s throat closed up even as he asked the question. He went to the liquor cabinet, careful not to turn his back on Voloren as he did so.

“A brief audience with your sister. And access to her resources.”

“Don’t you think if she could, she’d track this target on her own, without your help?” Tolliver did know that their quarry had gone off the grid on official military business. Nerida was livid, briefly; then she shook it off and declared she was in this for the long game and she could outwait a mere Imperial major.

Voloren thought for a moment, or at least, made similar motions to thinking. Tolliver had no doubt he’d planned for every contingency long before walking into this office.

“I have ways of utilizing technology she has no ideas about. She keeps her activity close to the vest, doesn’t she. She hasn’t involved you in any of the planning of her latest side endeavor, has she?”

Well, he was right about that, but Tolliver was in no mood to encourage this predator in his midst.

“I know who she’s after and why. That’s all I need to know. I’m not as involved with her new contacts as she is. My job is to protect the business.”

“I guarantee, my old friend, your business will be much safer without this parasite out there. Alive and able to ruin you if he so chooses.”

Tolliver emptied his glass and filled it again. “I will speak with her. Give me a day, then contact me -- remotely, please -- and I will let you know what she says.”

Tolliver nodded. “Fair enough. I will not torment you with my presence any longer.”

He waited for a reply. But Tolliver was not playing along.

“Farewell then, Tolliver. I regret none of our time together.”

“Farewell, Voloren. I know who and what you are, but please trust me on this: Do not anger my sister’s new friends. They are powerful and their network runs vast and deep. Even you are but an insect to them, and that should cause you no small loss of sleep.”

Only then did Tolliver turn away. When he turned around again, he was alone.

~~~~~~

Nerida slammed the desk so hard, she knocked off a glass that fell helplessly to the floor and broke into a thousand pieces.

“Blast, that was Alderaanian crystal. This better be good, Toll. I’m in no mood to indulge your proclivities today.”

Which was an understatement. She’d just learned her contacts were planning a dangerous move, one that could upset the balance of the war. She and a few other contractors sought to keep the conflict going as long as possible.

“He says he just wants to speak to you, and have access to your communication back channels. To your new friends.”

She hated when her brother played dumb. Because he was anything but, so when he did, it infuriated her; since he knew that, she knew she was being played.

“On one condition, dear brother. You sit here and I explain everything we are up to. And how you are already implicated in it. If, after that, your little friend’s request still fits into the larger picture, I’ll grant it.”

Tolliver sighed. “Stop being dramatic, Neri. All he wants to do is kill Malavai Quinn for you.”

She rolled her eyes. “The bastard’s on some black-level secret mission and even my contacts can’t learn where.”

“Volor …”

She waved her hand frantically. “For the love of the stars, don’t tell me his name!”

“Fine,” Tolliver sneered. “My friend. He shares your grudge and has resources and completely lacks in morality. He’ll get the job done. And I will sit here and listen to your story of how you and your friends are going to reform the galaxy and save us all.”

It was tempting, Nerida thought. Tempting enough to ignore her brother’s sass. She wanted much swifter justice for the man who killed her father, justice the authorities would never get around to. They’d declared her father killed by pirates and forgot about him. A moff. A man with power and money and secrets on all of them, just tossed aside like garbage.

But then, her embedded spy had said Quinn was visibly distraught on several occasions because of the isolation from his estranged wife. Prolonging his suffering had been a bonus. And her contacts had said the Sith was off limits for the time, although they gave no reason as to why. They didn’t care about Quinn at all.

“Agreed, Toll. But first, I need to know what you know about an historical figure named Darth Revan.”

~~~~

Nerida’s plot was at least as scary as Voloren, Tolliver thought as he left his sister’s office. These were frightening days for the Empire. He admitted for the first time in a long time that he still loved the Empire and wanted it to survive for more than just the health of the business.

No way she cared about some long-dead Jedi traitor or balance in the Force or any of that spiritual bantha shit. She had to be envisioning herself as some power player in this new galactic order, rewarded for being loyal and brave, not just for being rich and connected and in control of a vast supply of weapons and intelligence hardware. Elevated to some back-room cabal where she mattered again.

Truly troubling times, he thought. He tried to reach Bethana on his holo. He needed someone familiar and safe right now and if she was alone, he would go to her. Maybe even if she wasn’t alone.

 

 


	65. New Orders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the left, Gislaran by @tinybuggy; on the right, Dhavana by @skullinacowboyhat, both on Tumblr. Thanks so much for the lovely art, both of you!!

 

 

**_Coruscant_ **

No matter how many times she landed here, Gislaran was never quite ready for the smell of Coruscant.

It wasn’t the stench as much as the lack of it that always hit her, made her lekku twitch. The Republic wasn’t stupid: It wasn’t going to poison its own capital, at least not on the surface. As packed together as everything and everyone was, as many vehicles flying ceaselessly from one location to another, all of it was controlled and emissions re-captured and waste quickly disposed and recycled and …

No, it wasn’t that Coruscant offended the nose, or whatever olfactory intake organ a being possessed. It was more that nothing smelled as it should.

“ _There is no chaos …_ ”

"Well, maybe there should be," she thought, every time.

A city should stink, at least a little, she thought with a sigh as she exited her shuttle. Even the modest city she grew up in on Hosnian Prime had its telltale odors, a sign that people spent part of their day outside, on purpose. Food vendors, trees, the obligatory city zoo … all of these things contributed to making even an overbuilt world smell alive.

This was official business, so at least the walk from the landing platform into Republic Supreme Command was a short one. Her nose could cope. She was about halfway to the secured entrance when her holo beeped.

“Hey, I’ll see you in the briefing but I just wanted to check if maybe, you might want to get something to eat afterward?”

Gislaran smiled for the first time since landing. “Sure, Shan, as long as you’re paying.”

He shifted a bit uncomfortably. “Um, sure. Somewhere off the beaten path though, okay?”

“That’s where most of my favorite places are, Agent. How about Tizzik’s? And we can split the check. I was just messing with you.”

He laughed. “No, I think I can afford a pleasant evening at Tizzik’s. I will meet you there, that good?”

“Five by five, Agent Shan,” she said, and closed the channel.

She wasn’t sure what Shan might be up to. He had yet to do or say anything that might indicate he wanted something more than a platonic relationship with her. And yet, he always knew when she was on Coruscant and he contacted her on some pretext. And he’d never confessed, but someone kept leaving small candies by her briefing pads, and once, she found a lightning flower tucked into her travel bag that she’d left in the corner of a meeting room.

But first, duty called. As she made her way to the entrance, she saw Dhavana, the Barsen’thor. The epitome of what a Jedi should be, everyone always noted. But the slight Iridonian never acted as though she were anything but just another Jedi on the path. She’d always been friendly to Gislaran, and had sought her advice on several occasions in her dealings with the Esh-ka and other groups the Republic sought to recruit for the war effort.

When Dhavana took her by the arm and walked by her side into the briefing room, Gislaran temporarily forgot to be confused by Theron Shan.

~~~~~

Dhavana Freemoon sat on the padded couch in the corner of Master Satele's study, waiting for the call to the briefing. She knew pieces of what would be discussed, and that disturbed her enough to force her to seek some quiet meditation time before decisions had to be made.

She was the Barsen'thor. She was not on the Council, but she, like the Battlemaster, advised them on important matters. She had overseen treaties and recruitment drives and divided her days between diplomacy and intelligence briefings.

An acolyte appeared outside the study, telling her the briefing would begin in 15 minutes.  It was a brisk walk, but she would be glad for a chance to clear her head.

On the way in, she met up with Gislaran, a young Twi’lek and superb fighter who’d been named Battlemaster despite the concerns of the Grandmaster. But it had appeased the military, who valued the woman’s skill and daring. She’d helped Dhavana work through several thorny issues trying to integrate the Esh-ka into the Republic military.

Dhavana genuinely liked her, even though she could sense a dark miasma in her Force aura. But there had never been any sign – other than her insistence on pleading the cause of ending the Hutt-financed slaving raids devastating her homeworld of Ryloth – that she had lost her temper, violated the Jedi Code or in any way started down a path to the Dark Side. She of all people certainly understood every Jedi’s path was different. Dhavana wondered what Satele saw in Gislaran that she could not.

Dhavana had no qualms about aligning herself with her colleague, so she made sure to link arms before they entered the command center. Gislaran gave her a nod and a slight smile.

~~~~~

**_Tizzik’s Fine Food and Drink, Corellian sector, Coruscant_ **

Theron was waiting for Gislaran in a back corner of the hole in the wall that was Tizzik’s. It wasn’t anything special – certainly the food wasn’t, nor the watered-down drinks. It wasn’t even any kind of secret spot where illicit lovers met or spies and pirates gathered. But it was reliable. Reliably mediocre and quiet.

“I ordered us some mystery meat burgers and Corellian ale, your favorite,” he said as she took the seat across from him.

“After that briefing, I’m not sure I can eat. I have absolutely no desire to do what I’ve been asked.”

“It’s not a good thing, for sure,” Theron said. “Kidnapping a Jedi, even a wayward one, is pretty extreme.”

“She was on Corellia when I was, Theron. There were Jedi everywhere. If she’d wanted to be rescued, she would have found a way.”

“Well, maybe you can kill two mynocks with one stone,” Theron said. “Wherever the Jedi’s trail leads you, you can bet there will be Sith around. And that’s what I wanted to talk about.”

He stopped when he heard the waiter walking up to the table with their ale and some stale bread. Gislaran grabbed a piece of bread and tore into it. “Guess I was hungry after all,” she said, her mouth still full.

Theron laughed, and so did she. The ale showed up next, and Theron laid out his plan.

But Gislaran wasn’t laughing by the time he finished what he’d come to say.

 "All I'm saying is we shouldn't discount getting help from the Sith,” he concluded. “Well, not THE Sith, but I've targeted a few Sith who might be amenable should our interests align. You above anyone else should understand."

"I can't say Scourge and I are allies, Theron. I'm useful to him. He saw my face in a prophecy or some spooky Sith dream, that's all."

"There's more. One of the Sith we might be able to count on is your current target."

"The Emperor's Wrath? The _Other_ Wrath? Theron, are you listening to yourself?" Gislaran wanted to challenge Theron to back up the statement, even though she knew from Scourge's report on Corellia it wasn't all that preposterous. But making Theron squirm was entertaining.

"I know Scourge told you this, but let me lay it all out together: She could have easily killed Scourge, but didn't. She could have tortured him and tried to find out the reason for your mission, and didn't. She could have turned the planet upside down trying to find out why you were there. But she didn't.”

“And you think she’ll help us uncover whatever this mysterious series of communiques you found means?”

“I’m counting on it. We tell the Council and Republic command we’re on the hunt for this wayward Jedi when what we’re really doing is confirming my suspicions and trying to connect with the Wrath.”

“And what happens when we finally do meet up with her? How do we explain not bringing back this Jaesa Willsaam?”

Theron shrugged. They fell silent as the mystery meat burgers arrived. Theron bit into his and said, “Yep, a mystery. As always.”

“I’d still lay bets it’s not even meat. I bet that the finest synthetic protein in the galaxy is dispensed as a completely adequate burger from a forgettable tavern on Coruscant next to a mug of warm ale,” Gislaran said. 

 “Why do you think the council is so bent on getting this Jaesa Willsaam back, Theron?” Gislaran asked after a few more bites. Mystery or not, they were at least edible. “I thought the whole bounty business was a ruse, just to get under the Wrath’s skin. She sidelined her apprentice for Corellia and most of Ilum.”

“Who can say? Maybe they really want to get to the Wrath. She’s done a helluva lot of damage to the Republic.”

“OK, so then why do you want her to be our secret ally? Do we really need the Empire’s help tracking down this information?”

Theron bent over the table closer, and signaled for Gislaran to lean in. “There’s more going on here than just Republic versus Empire. Secret cabal-like stuff. I can’t lay out anything here. Maybe once we’re away and on the mission.”

“You’re going too?” Gislaran asked.

“You bet.”

That certainly made the mission, and the burger, a bit more palatable. 

~~~~~

**_Leaving Ilum_ **

All told, Quinn left Ilum with 219 of his troops, as several of his scouting units refused to be split apart from their alien comrades. He didn’t even ask Regus for permission, figuring the moff wouldn’t show his bigoted hand over 19 people more than he’d suggested.

Quinn saw it as no small victory, but he was also glad to leave the planet without yet another threat of imprisonment.

Before they left, he assembled the entire battalion – 587 souls in all – in the mess hall in the lower level of the main base. He told them what was about to happen.

There were tears. People, Imperial soldiers, publicly and without shame shed tears at the thought of being torn apart for no good reason.

“But we are soldiers,” Quinn told them. “We obey orders. We show our superiors, we show our comrades and we show our fellow citizens that we can adapt and survive. And we show the Republic we will not ever yield.”

And so they cheered. Not knowing their fate, whether they would be separated and sent Maker only knew where, still they cheered.

He’d had no time yet to fully dissect and analyze the information he’d been given, but the gist was they’d be operating from an orbital station above Khar Delba, the icy world that once housed Naga Sadow’s citadel, until the Imperial Engineering Corps could get operational bases finished on the planet and on its moon. They’d be protecting the engineers temporarily, and then a detachment of Reclamation Service archaeologists and officers on a more permanent basis.

Quinn sighed at the thought of another posting to another ice planet, and thought, almost seriously, that it was the universe paying him back for complaining about going to Hoth all those months ago.

His unit would serve as a mobile security force, as intelligence had uncovered plans by the SIS and other Republic agencies to infiltrate sacred Sith sites for reasons unknown. Codename: Operation Nightside.

Not that it took too much to figure out their possible targets: items of military value, items of advanced technological value or possibly items of cultural value that might be useful in a propaganda campaign. It was long suspected by Imperial scholars that the Republic had not scoured clean the Imperial planets they’d plundered during the Great Hyperspace War.

It could be any or all of those reasons. Khar Delba alone could prove a plentiful hunting ground, and Naga Sadow’s hidden fortress was on the dark side of its moon, Khar Shian.

It was surprising that the Republic and the Jedi would be so interested in artifacts that could likely be antithetical to all they believed in. Equally surprising, that the Sith had not cleared them out, either.

There were other assignments, including maintaining peace on the ever-restless planet of Begeren and monitoring sacred sites such as the ancient library ruins on Krayiss Two.

When they arrived on Khar Delba, Quinn marveled at how quickly the engineers had set up a working base camp. He was told another was nearly done on the moon as well. Full operational status would take up to a month, but livable and workable buildings were done within a week.

Between those facilities and the small orbital station, it was a much more comfortable billet than Ilum had been, even on the frigid moon. Just as they had on Ilum, everyone rotated time spent planetside with shifts topside on the station or out on patrol.

Quinn told no one, but he swore whenever he visited the moon his senses were heightened, and his dreams when he slept there were often of Xhareen. Sometimes he dreamt of good times in their past, sometimes of the awfulness of his betrayal or his treatment of her after Corellia. But there were moments, usually just before waking, when he swore he could sense what she was doing at that moment, wherever she was.

He checked with the unit doctor just to make sure he wasn’t still suffering any effects from when he passed out on Ilum. He wanted to submit to further blood work, to ensure his medications were still working as intended, but he still didn’t want it in his records that he was taking them. He knew it was unnecessary and probably vain, but after his run-in with Regus, he didn’t want anything to be there to be used against him.

Then he spent exactly 10 minutes thinking about a life where he wouldn’t have to worry about what people thought about his medical profile.

Then it was back to work.

He was returning from a mission to Kalsunor when he received a call from someone he hadn’t talked to in a long time: Col. Ovech. After Broysc died, Ovech’s time of service and leadership qualities were recognized as having been squandered by his former commander, and he was double-promoted to full colonel.

Quinn had been a bit envious, but then, Mazel Ovech was a good man and a good leader and he had never done Quinn wrong; he’d even been the only officer to speak on Quinn’s behalf at his court martial. That Ovech deserved a long-forgotten promotion in no way reflected on himself.

And he no longer blamed Xhareen for pushing him out of her service, either. He’d earned his own promotion, and the recognition that had come from his hard work since. She knew what she was doing; she had delivered on her promise to restore his career. He just wished he hadn’t sacrificed her company in the process.

“Quinn old boy! It’s good to see that grim face of yours,” Ovech said.

“You, too, sir. It’s been too long since I saved your backside from our favorite moff.”

Ovech laughed. His belly had grown a bit bigger from life behind a desk and he moved his entire mass when he did.

“OK, if you’re going to insult me, I’ll let you get away with that ‘sir’ nonsense. I wish I was calling to catch up, though. This is a serious matter of the utmost secrecy.”

Quinn checked the security protocols to make sure the message wasn’t traceable. “Of course, it’s secure on my end.”

The older man took a deep breath. “Son, I need to inform you that Voloren has escaped the House of Undesirables.”

Quinn felt for the chair he thought was behind him before sitting down in it, hard. “Sir … Mazel … when?”

“Over three months ago. We’ve just been informed of it. Imperial Security tailed him all over Dromund Kaas, and then to Nar Shaddaa, then to Tatooine and then to a pirate world called Rishi, before losing him a little over two days ago. So they decided to finally let us know. I intercepted the report since your name is still attached to his file.”

Quinn let the panic wash over him. He had to think clearly. He’d caught Voloren once, he could do it again.

“Mazel, I need to go after him.”

“No, Major. You need to stay with your men,” Ovech said.

“But I can track him. I understand his movements, how he thinks, where he goes, where he spends his time, how he …”

Ovech waived him off. “All of which you have exhaustively detailed in your reports. Sith Intelligence has all of it, and they’ve sent a squad of trained agents and Sith to track him down.”

Ovech was right, but Quinn’s skin still felt like it was on fire now. “Why in the blazes wasn’t he picked up sooner?”

Ovech shrugged and chuffed. “Your guess is as good as mine, Malavai. They must have suspected he was on to something beyond his grudge with you.”

“I hope I’m not considered expendable in this. Given the parameters of our mission here, it’s a bad idea to hold me out as bait.” Quinn did indeed have troops to watch over, missions to fulfill and a relationship to mend. He wasn’t about to die for something as preventable as catching an SIS spy.

“I could see to it you have some Sith to keep you company. Perhaps your wife?”

Quinn could not hide the sudden flush in his face.

“Oh, no. Are there problems? I hope not. You were supposed to invite me to your wedding, remember?”

“The war hasn’t done us any favors. Also, I’m an idiot.”

Ovech fell silent for a moment, then continued. “Well, Quinn, I will do my part to see to it you get whatever intel and support you need should we get word Voloren is heading your way. It doesn’t look like it as of now. He’d have to find some way to crack military intelligence to get your whereabouts.

“If things change, I will be on the horn immediately.”

Quinn nodded and took a deep breath. “Thank you, sincerely, Mazel.”

“You’re quite welcome. I hope the next time we speak, it’s to announce Voloren has been recaptured and to set a time for a drink and a long talk in the city center on Dromund Kaas and you telling me I get to be your best man.”

Quinn said his goodbyes and closed the channel. He called Lt. Kirrika into his office and explained the situation. She was to monitor certain transmissions beyond her usual routine and report any unusual traffic patterns to him and him only.

He intended to honor his promise to Ovech to stay with his troops. But he packed a ready bag just in case.

 


	66. A Knife In The Heart

**_Kaas City_ **

Drayden Quinn’s apartment was as close as you could get to the Imperial heart of Kaas City and not be in an official structure. The building was plain and imposing on the outside: dark gray duracrete, rescued from complete drabness by the pleasing geometric pattern of transparisteel windows on the façade.

Inside was an entirely different matter. Natural and artificial light flooded the atrium, which extended at least ten stories up. Native plants, including small trees trained to unusual shapes, dotted the open space where people lounged and chatted and drank drinks from a small café in the back corner. Warm colors everywhere in complementary tones greeted visitors on every floor. It wasn’t what anyone would mistake for designer style, but it was surprisingly inviting and cheery for a residence for retired military officers.

Xhareen made her way to the concierge desk. The attendant, a Navy lieutenant in full-dress uniform, noticed she was Sith and asked only, “Who has the pleasure of your company this day, my lord?”

“Admiral Quinn,” she replied.

The woman nodded, pressed a button and handed her a keycard for the elevator.

“Seventy-second floor, my lord. Suite to the right as you exit.” She bowed.

Drayden was waiting for her outside the elevator. He immediately offered a hug, which she returned with enthusiasm. She was still overcome with surprise at how easily Malavai’s family had accepted her, and kept her close despite all that had gone down with their relationship.

Which is what brought Xhareen to Drayden today.

When they got inside, Xhareen realized his “flat” comprised one half of the entire floor. Though it would be dwarfed by a manor home such as hers or Ellys’s, it was a considerable amount of real estate for the city center.

“This place is amazing!” Xhareen exclaimed as he gave her a quick tour. She worried that it might be the last time she got to see it, given what she was about to request of her husband’s only living uncle.

Drayden led her to a small nook that overlooked the city’s heart: The Citadel, Imperial Military HQ and all the other signature buildings of the planet. He made her sit while he prepared two cups of caff, which Xhareen immediately recognized as one of the finest single-bean brews on the planet.

They discussed the weather, which had become a hot topic now, with a record number of sunny days strung together across most of the planet. She didn’t bring up her own theory, that the Emperor’s defeat and subsequent disappearance might have something to do with it.

After a few other rounds of small talk, Drayden sat his cup down. “I’m grateful for your company, my dear niece, but I know you came here to do more than just chitchat with an old man.”

“You’re right, but I’m grateful for your company, too. I don’t know where I would be without you and your family and all you’ve done for me.

“I need for you to try to get another message to Malavai. My last message, at least if he doesn’t see fit to respond. I was hoping you could do whatever it was you did before to contact him.”

Drayden rose and led her to a back room that looked much like what Vette had set up at the estate as a communications room.

“I’m officially retired, but as I’m sure you’ve guessed, one never retires really from a job like mine. So, I keep my finger on the pulse of the Empire.”

He sat in front of the most complicated holoterminal Xhareen had ever seen. “It’s really not that difficult to bypass headquarters with a family emergency message. Imperial command considers it one of the privileges of service, to be able to keep a soldier informed about their family. My nephew might not be so thrilled when he realizes you’ve duped him yet again, though. I just hope we don’t wake him from a pleasant dream or anything.”

She wondered what Malavai dreamed of these days.

“It’s my understanding the military attempts to keep to Imperial standard time unless local conditions demand otherwise, so he should be awake and on duty,” Xhareen said, sharing a bit of information Kayda had confirmed for her. “If not, because it’s keyed as a family emergency, someone will wake him to receive it.”

“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” Drayden observed.

She nodded. “I need to know. I need an answer as to whether I should continue to be hopeful of a reunion or not. I’ve waited months now. I’ve sent him holos twice. If he hasn’t forgiven me by now, he’s not going to and I just need to know.”

She handed him a data spike, one that would self-degrade after transmission. “The message is on here.”

Drayden took it. “One way, one shot,” he said.

He inserted he spike into a holotransmitter and they waited. “It’s got mandatory open and reply receipts. Malavai will have to enter his personal code to receive it, and at the end of the message. If not, we’ll know something went wrong,” Xhareen said.

They waited about two minutes. The open receipt message was sent back. Two more minutes, and the message should have completed.

Around the two-minute mark, Xhareen had the answer she was looking for. “Channel closed, no reply,” beamed across the transmitter’s monitor screen.

“That’s bloody odd,” Drayden said.

Xhareen hugged him from behind. “But it’s an answer, and I must accept it. Even if it’s hard to believe Malavai wouldn’t take the opportunity to have the last word.”

They stood in silence for a while, arms linked.

“I know you’re disappointed, so if you want to leave, I understand,” Drayden finally said.

Xhareen drew a deep breath. “Perhaps in a few weeks, we can have dinner. Not as relatives, just as two old friends.”

Drayden nodded. “I’d like that. I’m sure there are many other things we old friends can find to talk about.”

After she left, Drayden considered for half a moment that he could retrieve the message she had sent to his nephew. But the sadness on her face told him all he needed to know.

Perhaps it was time to go against her wishes and get the family working on bringing the two back together. He would call Ellys and see what they could do, without looking like they were interfering. He hoped two old birds could conspire to make them happy again.

~~~~~

**_Khar Delba_ **

Lt. Kirrika almost missed the alert warning her that Major Quinn was receiving a personal holocall. They were on Imperial standard time, since they were still in the Imperial core, but she’d switched shifts since Quinn was out on a mission. She was walking by her station on the way to a late breakfast when she saw the board light up.

The message was marked with an official military emergency code, family emergency. Not a personal holo from his wife, but something told Kirrika she should intercept it anyway.

The major was still two hours out from another security run to Begeren, so she had the luxury of screening the call in private to make sure. If it was something not involving his wife, then she could easily patch it through to his ship.

The call originated from his uncle, the retired admiral and former head of Naval Intelligence. Not someone she wanted to mess with. It was a recorded message, which was odd for a “family emergency.” Even odder, two code requests were embedded in the message: one that it had been opened, and the other to show the full message had been played.  

Tamsyn typed in Quinn’s personal code, which she memorized when he first told her to intercept his calls. She let the message run. The major’s wife appeared on the small preview screen she used to covertly screen incoming transmissions. She routed the audio through her headset so no one else would hear.

_Malavai. I’m going to make this brief. This is the last time I will contact you._

_I’m setting you free._

_Trust me when I say first that there was nothing I wanted more than to be your lover and your wife and bear children together. Sith or not, didn't matter to me. Ours -- that was all I was looking for. A life and a family that were ours._

_I should have known when you felt compelled to humor Darth Baras without telling me what was going on that we were not going to be successful as a couple. You were right, you were always right. We let our feelings compromise us. And others suffered. And we have suffered as well._

_But no longer. I release you from the marriage contract if that is what you wish, but I will not be the one to take any action. There was no public ceremony, at least, so this is between just you and I._

_You have not returned my messages and you have not attempted to contact me since, so I am going to accept that your words in my hospital room, however harsh I may have thought them to be, are your final say on the state of our relationship._

_If I thought you were amenable, I would want us to try again but that just sounds so absurd after everything, doesn't it? I still love you. I will always love you, and only you. But I will in no way interfere in your life or your career. If you choose to be with someone else, I wish you only the best._

_If it helps, please remember that I love you because you are worthy of being loved. You should not hide away from your feelings entirely. Find yourself a normal woman who will fall for the dashing military commander and stay for the life he can give her afterward._

_I wish you only success in all things. Perhaps one day, we'll cross paths again and we will be able to smile and remember the good times._

_You will always be my captain._

_Signing off now._

The channel beeped, waiting for a reply. Tamsyn typed the code in again. Whoever was on the other end would think that Quinn had viewed the message.

To fully seal the deal, she attached a “channel closed, no reply” text, and hit send.

Tamsyn turned the monitor off. Maybe this would make her employer happy enough to release her from their contract. She wanted no more of the Broysc family and their machinations. She wanted to take the money and go somewhere far from the Empire and the Republic and the war and the people she had hurt to set herself free.

She had to think of some way of getting out of here first. She didn’t think she could bear looking at the major’s face anymore, not knowing how she had been deceiving him. If he found out, he wouldn’t be angry, she knew. He’d be disappointed, and that was much worse.

 

~~~~~

 

**_Khar Shian_ **

Quinn arrived on the frigid moon base and headed for the small command center there. He heard someone call out to him, so he turned back into the icy wind, but none of the soldiers who’d just debarked from the shuttle were looking in his direction. Everyone was practically running, just trying to get out of the cold and into the heated building.

Quinn shook it off, and proceeded into the base. Since getting word about Voloren, he had been even more cautious than normal. It drove some of his staff to distraction, but then a number of people had had strange experiences on this assignment, mostly on the moon base.

A young Chagrian woman was the comms officer here. Lt. Nyrren, he recalled quickly.

As soon as he’d taken off his coldsuit, Quinn went to her station. “Lieutenant, have I received any messages?” he asked.

She rattled off a series of squadron-related business: a broken hyperdrive engine on the Lisane, crew rescued, ship being towed back to Vaiken; a shipment of protein matter for the replicators delayed; several fleet-wide announcements of no immediate concern.

“Nothing personal, though. For me?” He didn’t want to sound desperate, but given what he’d just felt out there in the cold, he had to be sure it was just an aberrant breeze and not some foreshadowing call.

“No, sir. Nothing from the surface, the fleet or the capital, sir.”

He nodded. “Very good, Lieutenant. Carry on.”

But he couldn’t shake the notion that there was a message waiting for him, somewhere. He’d have to wait until he got back to the base on the planet to check with Kirrika.

**_Khar Delba_ **

“No, sir. No communications other than Fleet business. Those were routed to you on Khar Shian, according to my logs,” Kirrika said, turning the screen around so he could see it. She kept her back to him as much as possible, though.

“That’s fine, Lieutenant. I didn’t mean to question your competence,” Quinn said.

He went into his private office and sat until an idea came to him. Perhaps the voice wasn’t calling him, but telling him to call out. Since all of his strange incidents on the planet and the moon had so far been tied to Xhareen, did that mean he was meant to contact her?

He decided against a holocall. Perhaps she didn’t want to see his face. He understood. But he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d be amenable to an email.

He barely opened the file when the words started flowing.

_Xhareen,_

_It's been many weeks since I last tried to contact you, and I had hoped to hear from you by now. I'm sure you are still angry and hurt and you have every right to be. But I am begging you, please, to contact me. I need to see you and hear your voice. I want to apologize to you, if not in person, then the next best option. Even if all you do is yell at me, honestly my love, that would be like music to my ears._

_I am heartsick over this separation. I know it was my fault. I made you wait so long for me to come around and express my feelings for you, then twice now, I have sabotaged the relationship you worked so hard on. We worked so hard on. I did try, I swear._

_Anything I say sounds so hollow, so meaningless, but Xhareen, I still love you. I just needed this time apart. Time to be my own man again. To be a military man again. These past months have been no more or less dangerous than our time together. But they have structure and discipline and I need those things like you need the Force. That is the only way I know how to explain it to you, my love._

_On bad days, I feel as though when I was on your ship, I was a fraud. I wasn't really cut out for "winging it" as much as we were forced to do. It hurts me to say that, although I am in no way trying to hurt you. I've done that enough. I cannot ever take back the stupid things I said on the transponder ship trying to get you to kill me. I cannot ever take back the hurtful things I said to you after you lost the baby._

_If you said to me that I don't deserve you, you would not be wrong, but Xhareen, please, say something to me. Anything. Any word from you right now, even if you just type the words “Kriff off, Malavai,” in an email, that would be the answer I need._

_I won't give you any backhanded ultimatums this time. But I will assume, if I do not hear back from you, that you are done with me. I'm not sure what I will do with that realization as I simply cannot imagine a life without you in it. But if you do not want me, then I understand. I will move forward._

_Above all else, I thank you, Xhareen, for bringing me back to life. You have done so much for me, as an officer, as a man, as your lover, and even if was briefly, as the father of your child. I would not be here, commanding troops again, fighting for the Empire, if not for you. I am certain I would have died on Balmorra without you. I would have found a way to sacrifice myself for a cause I thought cared nothing for me. But with you, I became whole again. I can stand up and take my place among the leaders and be one of them. I am not a pawn, I am not a functionary._

_I am an officer._

_You made me that again. I will always be grateful for that, and for the time I spent in your bed and hopefully, in your heart._

_I feel an attack of mawkishness coming on, so I had better sign off._

_Be well, my love. Please contact me._

_Malavai._

 

Kirrika’s bot intercepted the email. She pretended not to notice. It was time to leave, to be done with all of this, and now she had an idea.

**_Dromund Kaas_ **

Nerida Broysc stared at the message for a moment, then clasped her hands together and cried out with joy.

Tolliver looked over at his sister. “Good news, I take it?”

“It seems, dear brother, that your sleazy friend’s offer has come at an excellent time. I do believe we can get rid of our problem at a most fortunate – or in his case, unfortunate – time. Has your friend succeeded in finding Quinn? Because if not, our contact has finally come through with their location.”

The girl Tolliver and Nerida had hired to embed herself with the loathsome Quinn’s battalion had been careful not to reveal their location, for fear of the Empire’s own spybots picking up the transmission for the treason that it was.

Nerida smiled at her own cleverness in instructing the girl. She’d just placed a series of product orders that would only seem out of place if one were to compare them to Perelta’s cataloguing database. It was unlikely anyone would need to order 207 new holocommunicator repulsors, 357 dust masks and 3 office water dispensers at the same time, but taken together, the item codes represented a set of coordinates. Surprising, Nerida thought, because they were so close.

The girl added another encoded message: _I’m done. I want to go home_.

“Indeed, dear Tamsyn. You are done,” Nerida said.

 


	67. A Knife In The Throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for blood and violence. 
> 
> Map of the base at the bottom. It's terrible, but it might help.

**Khar Delba**

A week after Quinn got the word about Voloren, he was preparing for another security run to Begeren to assist the squads he’d already sent to the restive colony. If he couldn’t go off chasing Voloren, he had to keep busy. Since Malgus’s uprising, Begeren had been a hotbed of unrest, occasionally more than the local troops could handle.

He had just returned from the Reclamation Service’s camp, just outside the area where the military outpost had been set up, helping them finalize plans for a second base on Khar Shian. The reclamation officers he had met with were as overworked as their martial counterparts, Quinn noted. So he had authorized most of his troops currently on rotation planetside to accompany them to Khar Shian to establish a new dig site about six kilometers from their basecamp on the moon.

He couldn’t say whether the war was making the Empire more desperate for some game-changing technology or whether it was making Imperial leadership more attuned to their Sith heritage and its spiritual past.

Frankly, he preferred the technology but as he stood so close to a significant piece of Sith history, he understood the pull of their mysterious heritage.

He was still having intense dreams, mostly about Xhareen and their time together. They were unsettling, but better by far than re-living the attack on the Yaroe Star and imagining himself being hurtled through the bulkhead and into the darkness of space.

He put those troubling thoughts aside, prepping himself for re-entry to his command base. Returns had to be carefully timed, due to the complexities of keeping the interior safe and warm. Grek squad should have returned a half hour ago. That was more than enough time for the dual entryways, which operated like airlocks on space-faring vessels, to return to safe temperatures for another set of people to enter.

The base was nearly empty, between the detachment on the moon, the supply runs, the security runs and every other task his pared-down unit was now responsible for. Just a skeleton crew for base management, and Quinn’s team prepping for Begeren.

Quinn thought perhaps he’d get a quick meal before departure. But, as had become his habit now, he would check in with Lt. Kirrika first to see if he had any messages waiting. He still held out hope that Xhareen would contact him. He wasn’t sure when he’d give up and move on. He couldn’t rule anything out. Not yet.

He passed through the two entryways that led from the outside, each room protected by blast doors and sequenced so that only he could override the programming to have them open at the same time. Quinn had ordered several changes in the plans and worked closely with the engineers. The last team left only three days ago after finishing the maintenance access for the blast doors.

The basecamp was built partially underground to aid with insulation from the cold outside. Though it wasn’t as cold as Hoth or Ilum, Khar Delba’s weather had to be respected nevertheless.

After getting out of his cold suit and stowing it in the gear closet in the inner entryway, Quinn walked into the command center. Kirrika was not at her post. That normally meant she was working from the smaller terminal in Quinn’s office in the back of the complex, where she went when she was decrypting official communiques.

He raised her on his private holo. “Any messages, lieutenant?” he asked.

Kirrika shook her head. “No messages, sir,” she said. Quinn thought she seemed distracted. And maybe a little exasperated. She’d been planetside for several weeks now. Perhaps he should recommend a short liberty on the orbital station.

“Are you OK, Lieutenant?” he asked. But before she could answer, her image sputtered and died. He tried several times to raise her again. Just as he decided to go back to his office and have her check the device, the lights in the base went dark.

They all had wrist comms, and were required to wear them inside the base except when sleeping. He was glad for that now. “Kirrika. Scan. Now,” he whispered as the emergency lighting came up, flickered and then died, leaving the base in complete darkness.

“Can’t, sir. All systems are down, including internal climate control. And now the emergency systems.”

That would give them at least 30 minutes until the building became too cold without protective clothing, three times what was required. Quinn had insisted that the structures on both surfaces be built to the highest standards possible, and he was as unapologetic now as he had been when they got here. He prayed it would help save his people’s lives, and give them plenty of time to stop whoever had done this.

Not that Quinn needed to think too hard about it. It could only be Voloren.

“Assume comms are compromised, Lieutenant. Do as you have been trained,” he told her.

There were five others with him in the command center. They managed to navigate to where Quinn was hunkered down, under the central holo and tactical display console, by grabbing datapads and using the dim light they emitted. Along with Quinn, they all removed their comm units and disabled them.

“Get down under this station. I’m going to go to the front hall and get our cold suits,” Quinn told them, grabbing his personal pad and setting it to the brightest display possible.

“Right about now, you’re deciding on some path to the blast door controls, to see if you can override them and get to your cold suits,” came the disembodied voice over the base address system. “Well, I’m sorry, my dear major. That’s not going to be an option.”

A muffled explosion sounded. In the near dark, it was hard to tell where the sound was coming from, but Quinn didn’t need to be told. Voloren had just blown up the supply locker in the second entry way where the cold suits were stored. Because they were still considered classified tech, each person was assigned one suit that had to be kept with them at all times, even when off planet. Only Quinn had a spare, which was in his quarters in the back of the base. He hoped Kirrika had enough foresight to grab it for herself, assuming she could bypass the controls for the door that separated his private office space from his bunk area.

“I haven’t heard you thanking me for leaving the address system functional, Major,” Voloren taunted. “But I couldn’t resist being able to keep you informed during these last moments of your life about just what’s coming your way.”

That’s when the screaming began.

“Isn’t that the sweetest sound, Malavai?”

Another round of screaming, and Quinn pinpointed the location as the armory. He tried not to think about who had made the sacrifice to give him that information. All he could think about was saving the rest of them – he calculated there would be 10 others in the mess hall, Kirrika in the back, five people with him, two sets of screams from the armory. That meant Voloren had two more prisoners. Everyone else was on Khar Shian, on patrol, or on the orbital station. They hadn’t fully worked out the new schedule or moved anyone into the barracks, located underground behind the mess hall and accessible by tunnel, another feature the engineers had only recently finished.

The doorway for the armory, which housed the training center and weapons lockers, was not on the main hallway. And the room itself had been surrounded with thick blast walls. If they were quiet, they could navigate from the command center to the mess hall. But they’d have to extinguish the light from the datapads or risk being spotted as they exited the back of the command center.

There were at least 30 pairs of night vision goggles. In the equipment room. But getting there meant passing too close to the door to the armory, as they both opened on the same side hallway.

“Alright, troops. We need to get back to the mess hall. There will be strength in numbers, and the kitchen is our best hope at arming ourselves with something sharp, since our blasters are useless.

“But that will mean cutting all sources of light. And all the night vision goggles are in the supply room, which is too close to the armory door. So, let’s troubleshoot and figure out a way to get there without being seen.”

Corporal Dunphee, a human male, cleared his throat. “Um, sir, I have a pair of goggles at my station. Here in this room.”

Quinn drew in a sharp breath. That was a complete breach of duty and under normal circumstances, would bring about a few weeks of extra duty as punishment.

“Well, I can’t very well punish you now, corporal. But why in the blazes do you have goggles at your station?”

“We, um, when there’s downtime, we shut all the lights off in the mess hall and play catch the mouse droid.”

Quinn shook his head, but before he could comment, Sgt. Kycera, a Zabrak female, spoke up. “I have a pair here, too, sir. No one ever checks the empty drawers in our stations.”

“Sergeant, I expect better of you but I can also see this base needs some better, officially sanctioned recreation. When we all get out of this, I’ll await your report on just what we can do to fill this apparent gaping void in your lives.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me. Both of you, retrieve those goggles and get back here.”

When they returned, Quinn told them they would go, single file, along the right-hand wall. Two people would wear the goggles, one in front and one in the back. He reached for Kycera’s goggles. She refused to hand them over.

“Sir, whoever this attacker is, he’s clearly out for you. You shouldn’t run point. Stay in the middle. Stay safe. This is what you’ve trained us for,” she said.

“I can’t go out there blind. I’ll take yours, Dunphee, and pull up the rear. Make sure the rest of you get there safely,” he said.

They walked in a tight line, those without goggles holding onto the belt of the person in front of them.

As they made their way out of the command center and into the main hallway, Voloren called out, “You’re awfully quiet in there, Quinn. Don’t worry, I won’t kill all your little soldiers. But this one, I will.”

There was more screaming. This time, they were closer and even though he had trained extensively in night vision goggles in the jungles of Dromund Kaas, nothing quite prepared Quinn for the sound of someone in his charge being tortured when all he could see was the discomfiting green light the goggles allowed for. He walked half backward, partly due to his training and partly because he couldn’t shake the idea that Voloren was following him, or watching him, somehow, and knew every move he was making.

Just then, the train of soldiers came to a sudden halt. Quinn looked up. Kycera signaled a trap up ahead. Quinn made his way to the front.

“Trip wire,” she whispered into his ear. He nodded.

She stepped over the wire, carefully, and remained just on the other side. Quinn pulled the next soldier in line, whispered directions for safely stepping over the wire, holding him around the back of his shoulders as Kycera grabbed him in front.

It took several minutes, every second of which felt like a month, but they all made it safely over the wire.

“I’m running out of playthings, Quinn,” Voloren called out. His voice reverberated through the hallway and over the comm system. For a brief, horrified moment, Quinn envisioned there were two of him, one in the armory, killing his soldiers, the other right behind him, staying in his shadow no matter how he moved.

Quinn braced for the worst, but there was no screaming this time. The line quickly regrouped and they made their way a bit closer to the mess hall door when Kycera signaled another trap.

This was subtler: Two claymores on either side of the hallway, rigged to explode if the air between them was disturbed. There would be no way to know in the darkness how high the sensitivity went. They’d be unable to jump over them without making noise, either.

“I can disarm them, sir. I just need someone on the other wall mirroring my actions. Jenys is trained for demo, including these mines.”

Jenys, a Twi’lek from Balmorra, stepped up. “I’m ready, sir,” he said.

With both of them using the goggles and focusing on the mines, they’d be vulnerable from behind. Quinn turned to face that way, anyway, when Kycera tapped him on the shoulder. “Sir,” she whispered in his ear. “Someone just came out of the mess hall. Wearing goggles. They signaled that they’ll watch our backs.”

Quinn nodded, but he stayed turned around anyway. It was somehow worse worrying that Voloren might get the drop on him and stab him from behind. He’d rather the scum have to look him in the face as he did.

Voloren decided to stab him with words instead.

“I hate to think of you cowering in your command center, Quinn, desperately trying to think your way out of this with that big brain of yours. Not knowing which of your little mice is the traitor who led me here. Who’s going to beg for their life to get off this forsaken iceball and back to our mutual employer.”

_Traitor_? Had Voloren really placed a mole in his ranks? Had he, or this mysterious employer, blackmailed someone to reveal their location? It could have been anyone. The bases here and on the moon were secure, as was the orbital station. But nearly everyone went out on frequent missions in the sector. Easily contacted through Imperial military channels for someone well connected.

Someone he trusted and cared about had betrayed him. He had a quick flashback to the Covenant.

_Oh, Xhareen. How could I have done that to you?_

Quinn had spun a hundred painful scenarios that trigged a hundred more painful memories by the time Kycera signaled the all clear. The line reformed and they walked, more quickly now, the remaining 10 meters to the mess hall door.

Kirrika greeted them there, in her night vision goggles.

When they were safely inside, Quinn asked her, “Kirrika, how did you get here?”

She balked for a moment, then said, “I had a set of goggles with me, sir. Apologies.”

Quinn sighed. “Don’t tell me, you play the mouse droid game, too, I suppose?”

“I did, sir, but got banned two weeks ago after I hacked the droid. I meant to put the goggles back but I forgot. Nobody checks the drawers in our stations, sir.”

He resisted the urge to chide her, though. “Lieutenant, I am proud to say that when my troops disobey orders, at least they do so in a useful, creative way. Is the mouse droid kept here, or should I perhaps look in my dresser in my quarters for it?”

Kirrika stifled a laugh. “It’s in the command center, Major. But the remote unit is in here, behind the food service counter.”

“Well, go get it,” he said, any effort to sound exasperated or even authoritative gone in the absurdity of the situation.

He could almost hear Xhareen laughing as he told her the story. Wherever she was, he hoped she could find something to laugh about now and then. He hoped he hadn’t ruined joy for her, with his betrayal and his fear.

Kirrika expertly worked the remote. An image of the darkened command center appeared on the small screen. The droid, too, had many ways to image beside visible light, and she chose a similar night vision view to what the goggles provided. Then she set it to silent running mode.

It rounded the corner into the side hallway, and slid inside the armory about two meters before transmitting back a gruesome image. Dead bodies, blood, body parts. Voloren was wearing almost a full cold suit, standing, also wearing goggles, holding one last living soldier alive with an old-fashioned, non-vibro blade at his throat.

As soon as he saw the droid, he grabbed a blaster from a nearby table and shot it.

But they’d seen enough.

“So sad, Major,” Voloren said after the screen went black. “I was going to ask you to give yourself up. I would have spared this little mouse, too, but you blew that.”

This time, the screaming went on for several minutes before it stopped. Several of the soldiers in the mess hall were sobbing.

“Sir,” Kirrika said, and although she whispered, Quinn jumped. “Sorry, but I can get everyone in here to safety. Into the barracks.”

She had to know Voloren had taken all the power controls offline. What could she be planning?

“What are you getting at, Kirrika? He’s taken down all the controls. We’re trapped in the base unless we can get a message out somehow. And I’m sure he’s memorized the plans and has every contingency accounted for.”

“Yes, but he won’t know about the tunnels, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

She shuffled on her feet. “I might have forgotten to file the new plans after they were finally approved by the engineers last week.”

Quinn wasn’t sure what the feeling was washing over him. Shame for having such rebellious troops, or pride for having such clever, rebellious troops.

Kirrika must have listened to his conversation with Ovech and knew trouble would be headed their way. It was a serious breach of duty, and completely out of character for her. He’d find some way to punish her later, too. For now, she probably just saved most of their lives.

“You get that I could have you busted back to the enlisted ranks for that, don’t you, Tamsyn?” His voice was almost fatherly.

“I do, sir, and I’ll submit to any punishment you choose later. Right now, if I can get to the maintenance access, I can open this door here.” She pointed behind them. “The whole barracks area is on a separate circuit since it was built after the main base was finished.”

“No, Kirrika, I’ll do it. I know how to re-establish the connection. I went over it with the engineers personally.”

He could do it. And he could head to the armory on the way back and take out Voloren on his own, too. With his bare hands if necessary. And if he didn’t make it, at least his people would. How easy it would be. To end his pain.

He’d thought before to give his life to the Empire. He should have been dead after Druckenwell. He could never get over Broysc’s casual willingness to let hundreds of thousands of Imperial troops die for a coward’s strategic retreat from a winnable battle. He would have given his life for Xhareen’s just to thwart Baras’s treachery, too.

“Sir, you can’t risk it,” Kirrika said, dragging him back to the present. “You’re our leader, and the people here need you in case I don’t make it. But I will make it. I’ll open the door, come back and you and I can figure out some way to trap this kriffer and do to him what he’s done to us. Besides, this is what you’ve trained us for.”

A lump made its way into Quinn’s throat. She was right. He was the commander and he couldn’t be the one to run off and do everything. He trained his people, and they were willing to risk their lives for their comrades, and for him.

Quinn shivered, but not out of emotion. It was starting to get unpleasantly cold in the building. The barracks, with their higher level of insulation, would be warmer. If Kirrika could do this, they’d have temperature support back on line before it got too cold, too.

“OK, Lieutenant. But first, can you get back to my quarters? There’s a spare cold suit in my cabinet. Right hand side. It won’t fit you well, and it wouldn’t be suitable for outside, but it will give you a much better chance in the access area.”

She nodded. “I can do this, sir. I hope you have faith in me.”

“I do, Tamsyn. You’ve come a long way since Dromund Kaas. But I have one favor to ask. If you get through this, and I do not, please. Do whatever you must to get in touch with my wife. Tell her I died loving her, no matter what happened. Beg her to please forgive me and if she cannot, to at least remember me fondly now and then.”

Kirrika’s voice caught as she said, “Yes, sir. I promise.”

~~~~~

Kirrika knew exactly where Quinn’s cold suit was. She’d been spying on his quarters since Dromund Kaas. She suppressed the urge to give in to the dry heaves. She was disgusted with herself. She was disgusted with the life that had brought her to a place where, for a hundred thousand credits she might never live to see, she had betrayed a good man for no good reason.

She grabbed the suit from the cupboard. The pants were a bit thin in the hips and thighs, and the material was stretched thinner than would be wise, even over top her duty uniform. The shirt was also tight across her chest, but she felt warmer already. She took the balaclava and the gloves, but left the helmet behind. She put her own boots back on, as she knew she’d be heard all the way to Nar Shaddaa if she tried to walk in Quinn’s enormous shoes.

She knew who the attacker was, even if she didn’t know his name. He was someone the Broyscs had sent. Someone with a past grudge against Quinn. It must have been official business, redacted even from her access. She’d poured all over Quinn’s life when she first got the position and she couldn’t think of anyone he was on record pursuing who could be this awful, evil creature stalking them.

She made it past the trip wire, and down the hallway without being seen. She entered the maintenance access hatch and closed it behind her. As she got further in, her feet, in her day uniform boots, began to ache from the cold. The explosion she’d heard earlier must have been in the inner entry way where the gear was stored. That’s why Quinn had urged her to wear the cold suit.

A hole had been blown, breaking the air and heat-tight seal, breaching the carefully constructed entry system and opening it up to the vehicle storage area. Since speeders and multi-tracks didn’t need to be kept as warm as people, the garage area wasn’t as warmly heated. It was already nearly as cold in there as it would be outside.

She worked the controls quickly. Fortunately, a dedicated maintenance datapad was kept here. It wasn’t frozen yet, and it provided enough light that she removed the goggles temporarily. The codes were easily entered and though she couldn’t hear it, she was certain the connection had been made. At least her surviving colleagues would be safe. She’d make it her job to keep Quinn safe, too. She’d end this kriffer and escape.

As she was putting the goggles back on, someone grabbed her. “Just wait until Quinn finds out who you are, my dear,” the voice said as something warm hit her neck and she fell into the abyss.

~~~~~

The light on the tunnel access door turned green. Quinn punched the keycode and the door slid open. He ordered everyone to go in.

Kycera and Dunphee stayed back. “We’re seeing this through with you, sir,” Kycera said.

“Very well. We wait for Kirrika to get back, but if you have any ideas, I’m up for discussing them now.”

“We need a distraction. Some way to draw him out of the armory,” Kycera offered.

“Be nice if we could take his goggles, blind him somehow, too,” said Dunphee, a native of Ziost with an accent as thick as Pierce’s had been.

They discussed possibilities for several minutes before Quinn realized Kirrika should have returned by then.

He was getting ready to go peer into the hallway when Voloren answered the question for him.

“Well, well, my dearest Maj. Quinn. One of your little mice has come to me in your place. I don’t mind whatever it is you’re doing in a sad attempt to protect the others. But though this one seems quite tasty, she won’t be enough, I’m afraid. If you want to spare her, get to the command center. Now!”

His order was punctuated with a scream. From Kirrika.

“That’s our cue, then. We go together, but I want you both behind me. Kycera, you take your goggles. Dunphee, stay right behind her and take a datapad with you. We’re going to rescue the lieutenant. If it comes to it, save her first. That’s an order.”

They made their way down the hallway in silence. They stepped carefully over the trip wire. As they got closer to the command center, they could see that Voloren had rigged up a light source in the center of the room. By the time they were a meter shy of the door, they no longer needed the goggles.

Quinn ordered the other two to stay back in the hallway. He whispered further instructions to them and went in, after hooking the goggles onto his belt. He kept to the dark edges of the room, in heavy shadow.

“OK, Quinn. I’ve set up the breadcrumbs for you to follow. You should be able to skitter your way in now.”

Voloren was standing by the central display console, holding Kirrika with one hand, and the knife at her throat with the other. He had removed her cold suit but left her workday uniform underneath intact. He wasn’t wearing the goggles anymore and they weren’t anywhere in sight.

“I’m going to start slicing – slowly that is – into your delicate little lieutenant. I’ll be gentle if you come over here to me,” Voloren said.

“NO!” Kirrika screamed as Voloren opened a line around the upper arm of the uniform before grabbing the fabric and ripping off the sleeve. “Don’t listen to him, sir,” she begged. “He’s a liar. He’s going to kill me anyway. Get out of here. Get back to your wife. She still loves …”

Voloren cut into her arm this time, deeply. She began to cry. “Get over here, Quinn, or this gets even more painful!” He had dropped the oily routine. He was angry now.

“Wait! Let me finish!” Kirrika begged. Voloren gave a half shrug. “Alright, but if he doesn’t get over here immediately after you shut up, you both die.”

“Sir,” Kirrika said, sobbing. “Whatever you hear about me, just know I’m sorry. Truly sorry. You’re a good man and it’s been a privilege serving with you. I only wish I could explain everything.”

Voloren tsked. “Don’t give him all the puzzle pieces, girl. My orders were clear. He’s to die in the dark, literally and figuratively. Well, the literal part I added.”

Before Voloren could open his mouth again, Kirrika elbowed him in the ribs, hard. He gasped, and as he was momentarily distracted, Quinn shot out the light source.

“Excellent idea, Voloren,” Quinn said as he put the goggles back on.

“So’s this,” Voloren replied, dragging the knife with some force across Kirrika’s throat, then throwing her to the ground. Quinn could see her reaching out with one hand as she desperately grasped with the other at the gaping wound in her neck. The rasping noise was made all the louder and more horrible by the cold and the darkness. The glasses allowed him to see the heat rising from the blood as it spilled from her neck onto the duracrete floor. _Tamsyn,_ he thought _, what the kriff did you get yourself into?_

“That’s on you, Quinn. Another death on you. So many you saved at Druckenwell. You even took me in rather than offing me and taking all the credit for my demise. Of course, your master Baras would have been rather upset. I was working for him at the time.”

Quinn knew Voloren was trying to bait him to answer, to try and determine his location. Quinn moved spinwise around the room, along the edges, until he got to a point right across from the comms station – Kirrika’s normal post – where it sat on one long end of the oval-shaped display console.

It was hard not answering him. He had no idea Baras had turned Voloren. Was that why he was so eager to dispose of Quinn along with Xhareen on Quesh?

“Though you might have figured out I’m here to enact justice on behalf of the Broyscs for what you did to their father. It’s too bad you’ll never get to meet them. It’s too bad you’ll never …”

Quinn wanted to shout now. Everything Moff Broysc had done had come back to him. Quinn was, just as Xhareen had said at the time, merely the instrument of the Empire’s justice. The fact that no one challenged their carefully planted cover story, that he had died at the hands of pirates, was proof of that.

There was no need, however, to justify himself to the bestial killer in front of him. He was nearly to the stool where Kirrika normally sat when she worked.

He leapt up onto the stool and immediately launched himself at Voloren. They both fell to the ground. There was a brief struggle, but Quinn flattened Voloren’s head against the floor and grabbed the knife as it fell from his hand.

Without hesitating, he sunk it into Voloren’s exposed throat.

“You always did talk too much,” he seethed as Voloren clawed at his throat, gagging on his own blood. “That’s how I found you twice before and that’s why you’re going to die on this cold floor on this dead planet.”

Just then, the lights came up. Dunphee and Kycera ran into the room.

Quinn got up off Voloren, who wasn’t moving anymore, and ran to Kirrika. But it was too late for her. Even with the cold, she’d bled out already. He sat next to her and held her lifeless body. Traitor or not, no one deserved to die like that.

“Sir …” Kycera began.

“Take my blaster and put a round in that scum’s brain as quickly as possible, Sergeant,” Quinn said.

Dunphee unholstered his own blaster instead. “I’ll do the honors, sir,” he said to Quinn. And to Voloren’s lifeless body, he said only, “For Tamsyn” as he squeezed off a single shot.

 

 


	68. The Coming of Spring

**“There’s always a day in winter when you can smell the coming of spring.” – unknown**

**Khar Delba**

Standard protocol when a basecamp was compromised was to fall back to an auxiliary location. Since he could not be certain the threat was over, Quinn ordered everyone to begin evacuation procedures to the orbital station.

Kycera and Dunphee returned to the command center with the soldiers from the barracks. Someone, Quinn never did figure out who, covered Kirrika's body. Someone else handed him a parka, a pair of gloves and standard issue cold-gear trousers.

“We confiscated this from one of the engineers who didn’t think he needed a cold suit, sir. About your build. Thought it might help til we get more suits here,” they said. It might have been two people talking to him, he couldn’t say. His face was numb and his hands were numb and his mind and heart were numb, too.

Someone handed him a cup of caff.

It wasn’t the cold that chilled him, however. It was Kirrika’s deception. It was her blood on the floor of the command center. It was Voloren’s laugh, and the sound of the last gasping moments of his miserable life.

He’d have to change out of this uniform before he could put the gear on, so he proceeded to his quarters to change immediately.

He stopped by the Armory. It was a gruesome sight. But this was his base, and he couldn’t hide from it. Sgt. Dom’ranh had already taken up a position outside the door, prohibiting anyone from entering. He was a Twi’lek, originally from Balmorra like Lt. Drix’el, but a head taller and twice as broad. The former head of security, Capt. Taylorr, lay dead right behind him.

The men exchanged no words, only looks. Quinn shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder, then continued to his office and quarters at the back of the base.

He had to make sure his office was secure first. He dumped Kirrika’s comm station onto a data spike as he changed. Then he cleared his own computer and holo as well. His uniform went into a refuse bag so he could give it to the investigators.

When he was done, he went back to the command center.

Kycera grabbed a holo-recorder and started to record the scene, including the armory. Quinn helped Dunphee and two others set up a temporary shelter around Kirrika and Voloren’s bodies. The Inspector General’s staff wouldn’t need to do much investigating to figure out what happened, but they did like to be thorough and keep scenes like this clear of interference until their work was done.

He could feel his fingers by the time Lt. Drix’el’s squad arrived from Khar Shian. Drix’el took one look at Quinn and grabbed a full cold suit from his shuttle. Perfect size. Once again, Quinn retreated to his quarters to change.

He noticed something on his desk chair that he hadn’t seen the first time. A datapad that wasn’t his. It was an older, civilian model. He grabbed it to check over later.

The breach in the entryway wall was already partially repaired. The life support system was fully operational. They’d be able to take off the cold suits soon.

As he was leaving his office, Kycera and Dunphee confronted him in the hallway.

“Sir, we’re troubled about what happened. With Kirrika, I mean,” Kycera said.

“Keep it quiet, for now,” Quinn told them. “I won’t have you lying to the investigators, but don’t spread anything that could turn into worse rumors. We can’t be certain this is over and until we’re all secure again, I will do all the talking. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

Not safe. Broyscs have important ties deep in the citadel. It’s not safe for any of us. But he kept those thoughts to himself.

The next task would be to feel out high command and the IG office. Voloren had mentioned Broysc, and Quinn worried that he might have lingering enemies he wasn’t aware of.

On the orbital station, Quinn retreated immediately to the secure commander’s post, so he could inform the families of the dead in privacy. He finished the holocalls, all except for Kirrika’s family.

He used the contact information from her personnel file, but all he got was static. He ran a diagnostic, first on the holocomm unit, then ran a check on the information listed for her parents.

The address didn’t exist. He checked their names; no couple with those two names existed on all of Ziost. It would take a while to run an Empire-wide search, and Quinn wasn’t sure he wanted to go through official channels anyway.

He remembered the datapad from his quarters. It was Kirrika’s, or one of them. All the data on it had been erased, except for one email, addressed to him.

Quinn opened it, his sense of dread growing.

_Major,_

_By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. I hate to just run out on you, but I’m tired of lying and pretending to be someone I’m not._

_I’m tired of lying to you. You’ve been so good to me and everyone here and it’s not right. I can’t fix things, but if I go away, you might stand a better chance._

_I’ve asked for extraction and I’ve just gotten the signal that I will boicx 9^C lk*33aslk%_

That’s all there was. Quinn checked the time stamp. She was typing this out right when the base was attacked.

So, the mystery deepened. There was only one person he could trust to help him investigate this. Someone who probably wouldn’t take his call. But he was going to try.

~~~~~

**En route to Vaiken**

Quinn wasn’t sure how to contact Vette directly anymore, but he doubted she’d ever given up a single contact frequency ever. So he typed a message and sent it to the last one he had for her.

The subject line said: _I’m sorry_.

And the body of the message was simply: “I’m so sorry.”

He got a reply about two hours later: “What do you want, Jerkface?”

“To admit I’m a jerkface, and give you a job.” He entered a secure holochannel she could use.

His terminal crackled to life not ten seconds later. Her slight figure appeared. Her arms were crossed and she was standing with her legs spread, and a blaster on her hip. Vette would probably never learn that she didn’t need to look intimidating to be intimidating. He smiled at her attempt, though.

She did not return the courtesy. “You’d better say you’re sorry and you’d better be paying me well.”

“I missed you, too, Vette. And I am profoundly sorry for blocking you. I just couldn’t talk to Xhareen at the time.”

“Yeah, well, she’s over you, loser. What do you want?” Vette was now trying to sound tough, though again, she didn’t need to. Quinn had no doubt Xhareen was over him – he had all the evidence he needed for that – but he could also tell Vette was getting less angry with him by the second.

“My comms officer has died and I wanted to contact her family. Thing is, they don’t seem to exist.”

“Send me what you got, I’ll do my magic, and then send you my bill,” Vette said. “I was serious about getting paid, Major Disaster.”

Quinn laughed. That was one name he certainly couldn’t object to. “And I was serious about paying you, so don’t worry. In fact, why don’t you just go ahead and take the credits from my account. I haven’t changed it since the last time. Just do be sure to send me that invoice.”

Vette’s defiant face turned into a frown. “I do miss you, you know. I really hate what happened.”

“I know, Vette. I … I can’t even say how I messed things up so. Perhaps we’ll get the chance to talk soon.”

“Right. Right after I dazzle you with my detective work. Holler at ya later!”

And she was gone. Quinn had no doubt if there were any way to sort this out, Vette would be able to do it.

~~~~~

It was entirely unexpected when Vette contacted him 10 minutes later.

“You aren’t going to believe this, and I don’t know if I want to discuss this even over a secure line,” she said.

“I’m on my way to Vaiken now. I can be there in less than seven hours,” he said.

“Well, that’s convenient. We’ll be there in about four.” She closed the call.

 _We_. He wasn’t going to even begin to speculate who that might mean. If she said Xhareen was over him, that she didn’t want to see him, she wouldn’t ambush either of them, would she?

With Vette, one never knew. Which of course, made life more interesting. He considered it, and thought he could see Xhareen again. He could talk about what happened, ask for forgiveness. After what he’d just been through, he understood why she left the headquarters building on Corellia that day.

So perhaps it was time to try again. Quinn vowed once he and Vette were done with the Kirrika business, he would ask her – beg or bribe if he had to – to help him contact Xhareen one last time.

~~~~~

"So, did you get a hold of Quinn?" Jaesa asked when Vette arrived at the Covenant’s docking bay on Vaiken.

"Yeah, funny thing. He contacted me. Something weird is going on, Jaesa. Something really, really weird."

~~~~~

**On Tython, several days earlier**

Xhareen sat in the corner of the Jedi library, exhausted from the fighting. She hadn’t expected to encounter so many Jedi. She certainly would have preferred not to have taken so many down. Especially the padawans.

She would have given anything if Broonmark had not been injured. Kayda and two Imperial medics were tending to him, stabilizing him so he could be transported to a hospital on the Decimation, the destroyer accompanying the fleet that had instigated the fight on the Jedi homeworld.

Kayda had begged her to leave the med crew alone and let them work on Broonmark. He had suffered several deep lacerations from multiple vibroswords when a small squad of Jedi trainees ambushed him as he was attempting to get to Xhareen, as she fought with a Jedi master and multiple droids. She had to leave Kayda and Broonmark behind; only she, HK-51 and Treek completed the assault on the Temple.

But the Jedi she encountered inside were so focused on her, more than a few of them fell to HK’s and Treek’s superior sniping skills. No one thought to check the corners and shadows for an errant Ewok and her deadly bowcaster or question the presence of an unknown droid while a raging Sith was bearing down on them.

After they defeated the Nautolan Jedi Council member her intel briefing identified as Oric Traless, Xhareen could go no further and retreated to back of the library to rest. Imperial troops were rounding up the remaining Jedi, mostly trainees. Xhareen had ordered them to be herded into the mess hall area, where they would be left unharmed once the Temple was cleared.

Treek left Xhareen and HK in the library, to join in the final sweep. She reveled in this victory, though Xhareen could not. Something felt so … _un-right_ about this attack. HK stood silently a few feet away while Xhareen slumped against the wall behind a table.

Xhareen might not have even taken the assignment if not for the persuasive power of Darth Arkous’s assistant, the enigmatic Lana Beniko. There was something right about her, like the Force had willed them to meet. As for Arkous, he was as unctuous as always, though he seemed almost buoyed by the thought of this ill-conceived attack.

She didn’t move when the Chagrian who appeared to also be another top assistant to Arkous came into the library, went into a back corner and removed a large box from an archival shelf. Lord Goh, Lana had called him. He said nothing on the four-day journey from Vaiken; he just sat in his quarters and meditated. He hadn’t participated in any of the fighting and Xhareen had nearly forgotten about him.

She could tell he was now talking on a holocomm to someone. She removed her visor and took a deep breath. With her Force Sight, she could see he was whispering to Arkous. Goh ended the call, grabbed up the box and left.

Fortunately, he was out of earshot when her own holo buzzed. It was Kayda.

“We’ve got the big guy stabilized. He’s going to pull through, and the doctors should be able to save his leg, but he keeps asking if you can go with him.”

“I was told to report back to Arkous’s command center on Vaiken as soon as the temple was taken. Can you go with him, Kayda? Remind him you’re my kin, so you are his kin, too.”

Kayda sighed. “Oh great. Another brother. Just what I need.” They both laughed.

“I appreciate it. I’ll head for Dromund Kaas as soon as possible.”

“Please do. I don’t want to be responsible for a Talz rampaging through the streets of Kaas City.”

~~~~~

Darth Arkous’s shuttle left a few moments later. Lord Goh’s cabin was occupied and locked by the time she, HK and Treek boarded and she determined that, if she could forget he existed for the next four days, that would be perfectly fine.

~~~~~

The trip was uneventful, but Xhareen’s dreams were not. The worst and most vivid one came last, because afterward, since they were only about a day out, Xhareen determined to stay awake until they made it back to the station.

She was on cold planet at night, out in the cold but not wearing any special gear. Surrounding her were a dozen Sith in the type of robes they might have worn centuries earlier. They said nothing, just pointed toward a building off in the distance.

She went toward the building. It was plain stone on the outside, half sunk into the permafrost. There were shielded generators as on Ilum or Hoth but they were silent. She walked up to the door, a proper blast door. It opened, then closed quickly, leaving her in a small dark room. Another set of blast doors opened and she walked through. A temporary wall had been constructed on the left-hand wall. A third sent of blast doors opened, this time into a large room.

Quinn was standing in the center of the room, his back to her. He turned and she could see he was covered in blood. She ran toward him, but the floor was slippery and she fell.

She looked at her hands. They were red, too. She couldn’t get up, as the sticky red substance on the floor kept her pinned there.

When she woke up, she was in the shuttle’s galley. On the floor. HK was standing over her.

“Inquiry: Master, are you OK?” HK asked.

“I slipped in some blood, I think,” she said.

“Observation: This area of the floor is clear of any blood. After such a rousing battle, there has been a lamentable lack of violence this entire return trip.”

She looked far past HK as he helped her to her feet. She could see Quinn, covered in blood, shivering, bodies at his feet.

But he didn’t look injured or panicked. He was barking orders at a handful of soldiers, then he faded away.

She went to the caff machine and drew a cup.

Hopefully, he was OK – she had no reason to believe otherwise from this vision – and that he’d check in with his family. She’d have to remember to ask Kayda about it next time they spoke.

~~~~~

The shuttle had arrived just inside Imperial space when Lana contacted her.

“This is disturbing news, my lord, but a Republic fleet just showed up in the Korriban system. They attacked the planet, took over the Sith Academy and half the ships fled toward Nicht Ka.”

“Lana, I’m still several hours out. I don’t have a medic and just Treek and HK with me. And our friend Lord Goh.”

“I can help, my lord. I mean Xhareen. I’ll have a squad to back you up and I’m sending you a list of qualified medics on Vaiken or in nearby systems who can be there within that timeframe. Although I’ll add, it’s not a very long list. There was an attack on one of our bases and nearly every unit is on assignment or on alert.”

Xhareen didn’t even need to look to know at least one of the names that would be on the list. He was the top of the list.

“I’ve sent you my choice.”

“Very good. He’s here on Vaiken. Though I’ve been warned not to give out any details, so you’ll have to finish the briefing planetside post haste.”

“Thanks, Lana. And don’t tell him it’s me he’ll be working with. I don’t want him spending the whole flight worrying. He’ll land, we’ll meet up, and he’ll just have to deal,” she said.

Lana nodded. Of course, she would recognize the name, know the relationship to Xhareen. “Understood. Signing off. May the Force ever serve you.”

~~~~~

**Vaiken space station**

Jaesa greeted Quinn as he debarked from his shuttle. She was wearing full Sith robes, black with gold and shimmering blue details, rather sedate as Sith fashion went. She kept the hood down, but the effect was still unsettling.

“I’m taking you to the Covenant. Don’t worry, Xhareen isn’t here,” she said quietly.

Quinn nodded. They didn’t speak the entire walk.

When he got to the ship’s hangar, his mood darkened. Pierce was standing outside the entryway.

“Don’t fret, Major. I’m staying out here, standing guard. Though I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon, _Brother_.”

Quinn wanted nothing more than to smack the smirk off his face, but he chose discretion instead. “Very good, Captain,” is all he said in return.

When they got inside and the outer doors had sealed, Jaesa said, “Vette’s in the conference room. I’m sure you remember where that is.” She went toward the bridge.

Though he certainly deserved the chilly welcome, Quinn hoped he could fix things, at least with Jaesa and Vette. He had no idea what Pierce was on about, calling him “brother.” He hoped he never found out.

He was rehearsing what he would say to Vette about Xhareen when she came out of the conference room and in almost a single bound, landed in his arms. He laughed even as he tried not to fall backward.

“I missed you, you big dope. I still want to yell at you, but I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he said when he could find words again.

“Come with me to the conference room. You’re not going to believe what I’ve found.”

 


	69. On The Nature Of Daylight

 

Vette stood outside the conference room door, staring at the entry bell. She didn’t want to disturb Quinn, but then again, she did. He should have had plenty of time to go over the files she made him look over. Even enough time for him to get over being mad because she had locked him in there. She hoped. 

She pressed the bell. There was no answer. This wasn’t his ship anymore, so she walked in. 

He had buried his head in his arms on the table. He didn’t move. 

“Hey,” Vette said, just above a whisper. “You OK?” 

“No, I am not.” 

She wasn’t surprised. She told Quinn to sit down in the conference room and excused herself. When she was outside, she locked him in and that auto-started a replay of all the files she’d compiled months ago on Dromund Kaas: all his and Xhareen’s journals from Corellia, all the battle reports and recollections that everyone had from the planet and then from the tragedy and its aftermath. 

If he tried to skip anything or look away for more than two seconds, an annoying Corellian love song would play – loudly – until he looked back. Vette got no indication the song had played even once. 

“Well, I’m sorry I forced you to look through all of that. I just wanted you to know. Everything.” 

He looked up then. He wasn’t crying, but he had been. “How could I have been so awful to someone I love so much, Vette?” He ran his hands through his hair and put his head back down. 

Vette sat down in the chair next to him and put her arm around his shoulder. “Because as smart as you are about regulations and blaster specs and battle strategy, in a lot of other ways, you’re still a big dummy.” 

He lifted his head up partway. Vette thought he was going to snap back at her, but he only said, “You’re not wrong.” 

Vette had been the first one, all along, to know there was something other than a professional relationship going to happen between Quinn and Xhareen. She watched them struggle with their feelings for months. 

“Look, Quinn. Sit up because I need to say this to your face, not your armpit.” 

He sat up and straightened his jacket as best he could. He kept his eyes down, however. Vette figured that was the best she was going to get. 

“Losing a child is like the worst thing that can happen to people. You got all stressed out and didn’t know what to do, OK? You can call it all kinds of fancy medical and psychological terms, but you were sad and hurt and you reacted badly. That’s Dr. Vette’s diagnosis and I dare anyone to say anything different.” 

He took a deep breath that quickly became a sigh. 

“You’re right, Vette. But how do I fix things? Can I fix things? You said yourself Xhareen was over me. She has no idea I tried to get messages to her, does she?” 

“No, not yet, anyway. She’s off on some super-secret mission just like you were. And I just said that because I was mad at you.” 

“You and Jaesa didn’t go with her?” 

“Nope. Dark Council orders. Xhareen, Broonie, the two newbies and your sister. That was it.” 

“Newbies?” 

“Two new mercenaries High Command authorized for her. A psycho droid and a murder bear. That’s what Kay calls them, anyway.” 

Quinn shook his head in confusion. 

“OK, well then. Very good. But I need to unravel this mess as quickly as possible. I need to know why my comms officer did what she did. And for the Broysc family, no less.” 

Vette pulled a data spike out of her pocket and inserted it into the computer panel. It was one of the ones Quinn had made on Khar Delba that she’d been going over during the time he’d been in here. 

Xhareen had upgraded the tech on the ship, at Zavaa’s recommendation, so Vette had almost the same access here as she did on the Phantom. Not quite at the level of the Black Codex, but much of what they had learned about this nebulous new group of conspirators was available here, too. 

“You look as though you’re the new captain of the Covenant, Vette.” 

She stopped typing and looked at him. “You didn’t know, did you? I had to leave Dromund Kaas after I thought Xhareen was just going to stay there. It wasn’t, shall we say, ‘free Twi’lek’ friendly. So I went off with Zavaa and Vector.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize. You at least stopped being dumb about that.” 

“Because I got to know you. But it shames me that I couldn’t simply accept someone just on principle until then.” 

“You’re still learning, Major Disaster. Anyway, I don’t really believe Xhareen is over you, no matter what she says. And I’ll make sure she gets all the messages that were blocked.” 

“Are you going to lock her in this room, too?” 

“If that’s what it takes …" 

Quinn smiled. They fell silent for a few minutes while Vette called up the files she’d found right after he first contacted her. 

The headshot of a young woman came up on the holo terminal. Vette split the imaging beams, and another three-dimensional headshot came up of another young woman. 

They could have been related, but were still clearly not the same person. 

“OK, mystery chick on the left is Lt. Tamsyn Kirrika. Ziost native, human, enlisted four years ago during the cold war,” Vette began. 

“No university records, but her military records show she was a quick learner and after two years as a comms operator, she was promoted to sergeant. A year after that, the war broke out again and she was given a field commission. 

“As soon as she was out of her preliminary officer training, she heard about the ‘Alien Brigade’ initiative and volunteered. It didn’t get off the ground until, well, you came along.”

“That’s a shame, too,” Quinn said. “We took the northern continent on Corellia handily because of the experience of our non-human troops. And because not every one of the humans came from Dromund Kaas, either.” 

“Your mouth to the Maker’s ears, I’m afraid. But anyway. Mystery girl on the right is Naki Verda. Grew up in the slums of Pub-side Tatooine. Thief, slicer, you know, a very talented person.” 

“You’re quite biased, Vette.” 

“You betcha. And where would you be without me, huh?” 

“Somewhere much worse. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“That’s OK, a girl needs a little ego boost now and then.” 

Vette called up a file on the computer screen. It was allegedly Kirrika’s autopsy report. “I’m so not going to put this up on the holo, because it’s gross, but as you can see, this is the report from the IG’s office on the person killed on your base.” 

Quinn moved over closer to the control panel and began to go through the files. “There’s something missing,” he said. 

“Yup, you caught that, too, didn’t you?” 

“Why didn’t the coroner make note of it? It should have been the first thing done to the corp … the first check made on the body.” 

Vette punched a few more keys. “When the body was released by the inspectors on Khar Delba, it was put on a flight back to Dromund Kaas. The autopsy was done en route. At first, I thought, well maybe the shuttle didn’t have a scanner, but it was a medical shuttle, fully equipped. And you’re right. They should have scanned for her ID tat first thing.” 

All Imperial military personnel had their ID numbers tattooed on their chest in ultraviolet ink. That way, if they were dead or unconscious, they could be identified by medical personnel who needed to know their history. Some newer recruits also got the markings on their backsides. If neither code were readable, then there probably wasn’t enough soldier left to treat and ID would be done later by genetic scan. 

“Perhaps it was an oversight, given all the chaos. The base was … it was quite horrific what happened there,” Quinn said, his lip quivering slightly. 

“My thought, too. But there was a body found on Tatooine months ago. Same general, crappy area where Naki Verda had grown up. And guess what?” 

“This body has an Imperial military tattoo.” 

“Right. And here’s where Zavaa’s handy box came in … um, handy. There was a report sent to High Command about it. Which quickly disappeared.” 

“The Broyscs.” Quinn spat the name out like a child might spit out bitter medicine.  

“They would certainly have the juice to do it.” 

“So, for some reason, the Broyscs hire a slicer who looks somewhat like Lt. Kirrika. They likely arrange for some cosmetic surgery as well. There must have been some other assignment for their replacement first, as there wasn’t much time between my transfer from Xhareen’s service back to the infantry. Not enough to get her surgery and fly her from Tatooine to Corellia, which is where she boarded.” 

“Whatever, they have it out for you. Your new assignment just made everything easier for them.” 

“Do you have any evidence that they know it was me, that I killed their father?” 

“That’s the strangest thing. There is no evidence. I mean, one of the pirates who helped you could have ratted you out. But we had Andronikos check, and there’s no one missing from his pirate pal group, nothing bad happened to them afterward. He doesn’t think there’s a leak on that end, anyway.” 

“They must just hate me. It’s the popular thing to do.” 

Vette ignored that. “Thing is, we suspect it’s old moffy’s daughter. Nerida. She runs the company. The companies. All of them.” 

Quinn nodded. Vette knew he’d be intrigued by the mystery she’d stumbled onto. “It’s an industrial conglomerate and if I recall, she is the chairman and her younger brother is her right hand. He’s no one to trifle with, but is thought to be much more cautious and stable. He was also not very close to his father.” 

“No one could blame him for that. But yeah, we also – we being me and Zavaa – have traced connections between Nerida and some of the other people we suspect are trying to wage some kind of war or rebellion on their own. 

“Weird thing is, we’ve identified Imperial civilians and military and the same over on the Pub side and people from unaligned worlds. It’s scary big.” 

They fell silent for a moment. Quinn was getting ready to say something when Jaesa’s voice came over the ship’s intercom. 

“Quinn, you’ve got a call from High Command. Your old friend, Col. Ovech.” 

Before he could say “patch it through,” she had. 

Ovech’s form replaced the holos of Kirrika and her replacement. Or rather, the Kirrika Quinn knew and her predecessor. 

“Malavai, I have important new orders for you from the Sphere of Military Offense. And before I go any further, I’m sorry I doubted your instincts in this Voloren business,” Ovech said. 

“Mazel, it was my duty to remain with my unit. Consider what might have happened if Voloren had come after me but I wasn’t there. What’s done is done. What are my orders?” 

“You’re to get on a shuttle to Korriban immediately. It’s under attack by Republic forces.” 

“What?” 

“That’s all I know. It’s not a large force so they must be after something. Your troops are on alert and are responding. But you’re needed on ground to accompany a Sith counterattack force. You’re to land and seek out a Sgt. Tarsten once you’re there. That’s all I know.” 

Quinn bowed. “I will comply immediately, old friend. Thank you for the heads up.” 

“Come back safe and thank me then. I better have a wedding invite, too. Ovech out.” 

Quinn stood up. “Vette, I wish I could stay and do more, but you heard …” 

“Yeah. Korriban. That’s pretty bad, huh?” 

“Indeed.” Quinn’s personal datapad beeped. “Those are my shuttle departure coordinates. I must be going. I will be back here as soon as possible, assuming you’re staying docked.” 

“If not, Zavaa and Vector are running around the station and we can reconvene on the Phantom.” 

“Very good. And Vette, thank you. For everything. It wasn’t easy watching Xhareen on the holo, or hearing her voice, or reading her innermost thoughts, but I needed to do that. Even if Xhareen doesn’t want me around anymore, I hope you and I can still be friends and stay in touch.” 

“You’re welcome, but your bank account has already thanked me sufficiently.” 

He leaned over and kissed her on top of her head. “Even if you took it all, there wasn’t enough in there to compensate for how good you’ve been to me all along.” 

She punched him softly in the chest. “Get out of here before you make me cry, you big dummy.”

 

~~~~~

**On Korriban**

The shuttle touched down on the landing pad, then rocked violently forward and then to port before settling like debris tossed into a quarry pond.

Xhareen made her way to the entry and braced herself for what was to come. Not just the utter desecration of the space most sacred to the Sith. Arkous’s assistant had forewarned her about that. What the pale Sith scholar could not have known to prepare the Emperor’s Wrath for was how hard it would be to see _him_ again.

The door opened, and, seeing how tentative the gangplank’s relationship to the ground was, Xhareen jumped out of the doorway instead, landing in a three-point stance and righting herself immediately.

She surveyed the devastation before her. Korriban’s rocky barrenness had been, before, almost beautiful in its sparse, powerful way. Now, with rock formations and buildings smashed in equal number, and the sound of blaster volleys in the distance, it was as sad as she was expecting.

A year ago, she would have leapt from this spot not waiting for Quinn or anyone and would have begun simply slashing at any Jedi or Republic soldier she saw. Her unbridled rage would have made Broonmark wary. Even knowing that the Empire had struck Tython first -- that didn’t make it better. In fact, it made things worse. There was a recklessness at work here. Even Baras at his most greedy would not have conscience any attack that would have provoked the Republic to do … _this_.

Fueling the rage she was keeping at bay was the fact that Lana Beniko had told her the raid on Tython was to be just that: a raid. A singular, surgical strike. In and out.

Instead, Xhareen had worried more about getting injured tripping over rubble from the intensive bombing than she did from the pitiful few souls left alive to fight her.

Xhareen from a year ago would have simply let her rage boil over and cleanse this sacred space of the vermin moving in as though they owned this planet.

But she’d learned so much since then.

_Motivation: To return Korriban to Sith control. This is our home._

_Dispassion: Letting loose my rage uncontrolled will not serve the larger aims of the war. It will prolong conflict, not resolve it in our favor._

_Connection: Tremel brought me here. Quinn will be fighting by my side._

_Resolve: To carry out my mission._

She began to breathe and prepare for a few moments of meditation when she heard footsteps in the gravel of the makeshift landing pad.

She didn’t need to use her Force sight to know who it was. But still, she kept her head turned away so that all he could see was someone in Sith robes.

“Greetings, my lord. Major Malavai Quinn, reporting for duty.”

Xhareen resisted the urge to run away without even acknowledging him. It wasn’t his fault he was here. Maybe he ignored all her communications, but she understood better now how tragedy affected him.

Instead, she took a long look at him, using her Force sight, keeping her back toward him for what must have been an uncomfortable span of seconds. She wasn’t prepared to see his face again, the constant black shadow along his jawline, the too-blue eyes above the impossible cheekbones. If she had thought they were alone, she would have thrown herself into his arms and not let go until he forgave her.

But the Empire needed them both, right now, no entanglements. Their personal conflict would have to be set aside. She cleared her throat that was suddenly full of dust and perhaps even glue, and, without turning around, spat out the greeting she had rehearsed since she diverted her shuttle to Korriban.

“It’s good to hear your voice again, Quinn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is taken from Max Richter's "On the Nature of Daylight," also from the film _Arrival_.


	70. All The Way From There To Here

**_On Vaiken_ **

Vette waited for the ship’s entry door to close before she stopped trying to avoid tears. She missed the life they all had on this ship before … before she had to admit two of the people she loved most in this galaxy were deeply flawed.

Quinn, despite his accomplishments and that big brain of his, had so little faith in himself. Xhareen, so strong and fearless, let too much slide. Depended on her lightsabers to get her out of all the messes she found herself in. They both maybe had a bit too much pride, too.

Xhareen complained about Quinn’s stoicism and he of her stubbornness, but then they ended up in the same place: apart, alone in their self-made mess.

Nobody was perfect, Vette knew that all too well. And they deserved each other, but in all the good ways. Whatever she could do to get them back together, she would do. Even if Jaesa didn’t agree.

She dried her eyes and went back to the conference room. She was getting ready to hail Zavaa when a call came in from an unknown source. She checked it for any malicious code, and decided to play it on a buffer frequency she’d set up. If the caller wanted to do naughty things, they’d find themselves talking to a Sith Intelligence screening droid instead.

The image resolved into a Rodian in pilot’s gear. “I have information you want.”

“Oh come on, pal. You need to give me something more than that.”

“I know what’s up with your Sith master and her major. That good enough?”

“Yeah, but then, your Basic’s better than any Rodian I’ve ever met in Imperial space.”

The figure bowed. “Come to these coordinates and we can discuss exolinguistics to your heart’s content. Or I can help you, like I said.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

“Nothing you need to carry with you. I promise your safety, but you must come alone.”

“Me and my blaster will be there in 30.” Vette shut the holo off.

“You know you’re not going alone, right?” It was Jaesa.

“You sure you want to get involved? If it’s about getting Xhareen and Quinn back together …”

Jaesa waved her hand. “First off, your safety is more important to me and unless I miss my guess, those coordinates are a maintenance room off the main hangar for departures to Hutta.”

Vette cocked her head and just stared at her.

“I’ve been stuck on this station for ten days waiting for Xhareen to come back. I might have spent some time memorizing the layout. And Xhareen’s going to do what she wants to do when it comes to Quinn. I can’t talk any sense into her no matter how hard I try.”

“He loves her and she loves him. I can’t believe I’m the one who has to explain that to everyone.”

“It doesn’t mean they can handle being together, Vette.”

“Xhareen got stronger because of him.”

“Xhareen got stronger in spite of him.”

“Do you really hate him? Knowing everything we know now?”

“The Jedi avoid attachments because they trip you up, every time. Even Quinn didn’t want a relationship in the beginning. Maybe they should have paid attention to all the warning signs. Instead, Xhareen had to endure an unbearable tragedy alone.”

“But the Sith value family and love and passion, Jaesa. They live and die by it. Even the really scary Dark Siders. She told you what Malgus said to her right before the end.”

Jaesa shook her head. “Not exactly the best example there.”

“No, it’s the perfect example. Malgus wanted to improve the Empire. Yeah, he kriffed it right up. He let his big, muscley ego get in the way. But ever since then, it’s been a little easier for aliens. Quinn has his own command full of them. I can walk around this station without too many whispers. I’m not saying I’m ready for a condo in downtown Kaas City, but even in his spectacular failure, Malgus’s passion for his long-lost alien lover made a difference.

“So what if Quinn and Xhareen karked a good thing all up? Twice. If they are willing to talk it out and get over themselves, they have a chance. I mean, were your parents perfect? Did they ever hurt each other? They’re still together.”

“I don’t know, Vette. I was taken from them when I was eight years old,” Jaesa said, sharply.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I never even knew my father. He died defending our village from the slavers. And you know what happened to my mother.”

They fell silent, each knowing they’d gotten themselves into an unwinnable argument.

“I have a hard time trusting Quinn anymore. If he can make good then I’ll keep my mouth shut, but I won’t be voting him Boyfriend of the Year any time soon, OK?”

Vette nodded. “Tivva has her own life now. You guys are the only family I have, Jaesa. You and Xhareen and Quinn and everybody else.”

Vette didn’t want to say the words, but she figured Jaesa, even without using her power, could figure out Vette needed this as much as Xhareen and Quinn did.

And she really needed to figure out who this mysterious fake Rodian was and what they had to offer.

~~~~~

**_On Korriban_ **

Quinn did not trust his ears when his eyes told him something else. The Sith standing in front of him, still with her back to him, was taller, thinner and had short hair. She – he was going to guess that, given her voice. Maybe it wasn’t a woman and they were wearing a mask. That’s why it sounded like Xhareen. The voice was distorted and he just heard what he wanted to hear.

But it was someone who knew him so … maybe her Mirialan friend Myroli? Except he’d seen her on Ilum with Releah’s team, he even spoke to her briefly. She kept giving Kirrika her famous side eye. Or maybe this was a dream. Maybe his shuttle was shot down and crash landed and he was dead and this was the afterlife some believed in.

He shook his head to bring himself back to the present. _Assess the situation_ , he ordered himself.

This Sith was wearing a robe. _She_ never wore Sith robes, not in all the time they’d spent together, anyway. The coloring was unusual, but also familiar. Shimmery, warm blue with gold accents … just like the trim on Jaesa’s robes.

And then the Sith turned toward him. And there was no doubt.

It was her. She had cut her hair and had a new visor – or implants, he couldn’t tell from this distance. Taller soles on her boots. But it was her.

He fell to one knee. “My lord. I was instructed to report to these coordinates, per Sgt. Tarsten’s battle orders. If you do not wish to fight with me, I will gladly report to one of the other Sith in the attack squad.”

She laughed. It was her laugh. Deep and liquid and from her heart.

“That’s nonsense, Major. I requested you. And besides, we are the attack squadron. You and I. Our backup is still two hours out and I've orders not to wait for them.”

He stood up, despite what his knees wanted to do. He nodded in her direction. “Xhareen.”

“Quinn, I know this is awkward. Kayda is on Dromund Kaas with Broonmark, who was severely injured in our last battle. I needed a medic and a second and your name was on a very short list. It would have looked bad for both of us if I had chosen anyone else, but to be honest, it would have been stupid. There’s no one better, no one who knows how to keep me alive like you do.”

He wanted to run to her. But did she want that? He couldn’t tell. She was standing with her arms crossed. She looked strong, but not welcoming. And they were here to fight a battle, not discuss their issues. Not yet, anyway. Not until she heard what was waiting back at Vaiken.

“If these are my orders and this is my assignment, I will comply. I know time is short, but there’s something I must ask you: Have you heard from Vette recently, asking you to meet her on Vaiken?”

She bent her head sideways. “Yes, how did you know?”

“Because I just left her. On your ship. She has information you need to know. About us. About a lot of things.”

Xhareen nodded. “Then after we take back the Academy, we’ll talk.”

Quinn put his hand on his chest and gave her a respectful nod. “That might not be wise, my lord. The utmost security is required.”

“Alright then. We only speak about the fight ahead and other approved military communications, I suppose.”

“That would be most prudent, my lord.”

Quinn relaxed a bit, and she noticed.

“I’m sorry, Malavai. I didn’t mean for this to be hard on you. I can scarcely process the devastation here and we have an objective to claim. So get your battle rattle on and let’s move out.”

He smiled. She had changed, but then again, she was still his Sith. His wife. His Xhareen.

~~~~~

**_Vaiken_ **

Jaesa’s boredom had paid off, Vette soon learned. Between them, they identified six routes in and out of the maintenance area they could use without being detected. Of course, that meant their mysterious contact could do the same.

They decided the one that kept them out of the not-so-all-seeing eye of Imperial surveillance the longest would be the best one for Jaesa to use. She was a Sith lord now, after all. Someone might be watching her. But a Twi’lek slave?

Vette hated putting her collar back on, even if it had been deactivated since she and Xhareen left Korriban. But she figured she was getting compensated by all the cloak and vibroknife drama, and it really was important for the Empire.

“Yeah, Darth Scaryfaces, you can thank me later,” she said to her reflection as she straightened it out. She’d added a switch to turn on the indicator light so it would look like the collar was ready for torment, at least to the unknowing, probably uncaring, eye.

Vette would take the route that wound behind several stalls in the common market area. It had the fewest cameras but the most live guards. But again … Twi’lek slave.

She left 10 minutes after Jaesa did, but still planned on being early.

After she slipped through the hatch from an unused fuel line, Vette flipped on her datapad and scanned for signs of life. There weren’t any, which meant Jaesa hadn’t made it to the air duct six meters inside the hangar, either.

She nearly dropped the pad when a computer-distorted voice called out, “You’re early, little thief.”

“Hey! I'm taller than a Rodian.” She straightened up and looked around for the source.

“You’ve got me there,” the voice replied.

“Look, I know who you work for and we’ve got all the escape routes covered.”

“I thought I told you to come alone.”

“Your scanners picking up anyone else?”

“Then I guess you technically followed my orders.”

“I don’t give a kriff about your orders. Why don’t you just show yourself and get this over with.”

A minute passed, and she heard wood crack as the side panel of a crate popped off and fell to the floor.

A human male emerged. Average build, short brown hair, wearing goggles so she couldn’t see his eyes or make out the lines of his upper face.

She ventured a guess as to his identity anyway.

“Wow, you don’t just work for Broysc industries, do you?”

“No, little thief,” he said as he walked closer. “I _am_ Broysc industries.”

He had a blaster at his side and a knife in his boot. Vette wanted to be brave and draw on him, but decided against it, for now.

But she wasn’t about to hold her anger. “Why did you try to kill Quinn? Why did you let all those soldiers die instead? What’s your problem?”

“Didn’t your master tell you, slave? Her beloved killed my father.”

She pulled the collar off and threw it down. “That was just for show and my Sith friend tells me everything. From what I recall, there was a long line of people hoping to claim credit for his overdue demise.”

Tolliver Broysc took a step back. “I almost believe you, all that passion! You should be a Sith!”

“Quit the mockery, pal. What the kriff do you want?”

“I want to protect my family business. I had nothing to do with the hit on your master’s lover. I didn’t hate my father, but I didn’t love him much, either. The feeling was mutual. He dragged down the business every moment he stayed alive and yes, I do know how much everyone from a first-day recruit to the Grand Moff cheered at his death.

“The problem isn’t me. It’s my sister. She carried my father’s grudge against the Quinn family so long that, even if presented with incontestable evidence to the contrary, she’d still want to blame that smug bastard for the death and see to it he suffered.”

“Mission accomplished.”

He raised his hand. “I bear Quinn no ill will and I am livid that my sister interfered with a Sith as powerful as your … friend. I’m here to give you some evidence of Nerida’s meddling so you can stop her from continuing down a dangerous path.”

“You mean like treason. Or more treason, really.”

“Yes, and you’ll need more than the dying protestations of a confirmed psychopathic assassin.”

He was right about that, but Vette wasn’t ready to let him off the hook.

“I’ve already cracked the code your mole used to intercept Quinn’s transmissions from the Emperor’s Wrath. It won’t be long before we unknot all the proxies used to …”

“Save your fingers all that typing,” he said, pulling a data spike from his pocket and tossing it in her direction.

She caught it. It was top drawer stuff, highest encryption, best protection. Barring a direct strike from a light saber, it would hold data forever.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to break a sweat cracking it,” Broysc said. “But I’d only say that to someone as good as you.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, pal.”

He shrugged. “I’m going now. That’s my shuttle in the hangar, or at least, it belongs to the underling who’s one of 20 liaisons we have with the Imperial military. Is everyone who followed you here clear? I sincerely wish you and your friends no harm, Ce’na Celestan.

“That girl is dead, Tolliver Broysc. My name’s Vette. Just Vette.”

He walked into the hangar and headed for the gangplank. “I only have one request, Just Vette. A demand, more like it. Keep all my family’s businesses out of this. Peralta Industrials, Korchik Holdings, all the ones I’ve listed on that spike.”

Then he disappeared into the shuttle. The gangplank lifted up and the engines began to spool. “Please evacuate the shuttle bay within two minutes,” a metallic voice intoned.

Vette went to the normal entry door. Jaesa was waiting for her there.

She held up the spike. “Guess I have some more digging to do.”

~~~~~

**_Korriban_ **

It felt good.

It felt _really_ good fighting with Quinn again, even though it shouldn’t have. Not with all she held dear as a Sith crumbling around her.

Even without stopping to meditate, she kept her rage in check, releasing it at the end of every slash of her light sabers.  

They cut through two companies of Republic troops with ease. Two more remained before they got to the Empire’s new forward position. Quinn suggested they stop to get their bearings. Xhareen nodded because when she went to speak, her throat was so dry no sound came out. She pointed to a hill just to the north.

They trekked up the hill to find a tomb, its entrance blocked by debris and bodies, mostly Sith, and a horde of tuk’ata feasting on the corpses.

“The Tomb of Marka Ragnos,” Quinn whispered. All Xhareen could think about was whether she could kill a tuk’ata and drink its blood, she was so thirsty.

“You once told me the story of your ascension began right here.” Quinn spoke with a reverence she’d never heard before.

Xhareen swallowed hard, mustering the last bit of moisture left in her body. “It will end here if you don’t have any water on you,” she whispered, her voice an unpleasant rasp. She leaned her head down and covered it with her arms to muffle a coughing fit.

Quinn produced a small flask of kolto drink. “I was saving it for after the battle, but clearly, you need it now.”

She took the flask and lifted it up for a brief drink. “Just a sip, like you always taught me.”

“You were my best student.”

“Then you must have been the galaxy’s worst teacher, Quinn.” Xhareen tried to stifle a laugh that came out like a cough instead.

He took the flask from her. “Well, you’re wrong. Look at us. Saving the Empire, once again. I was a fabulous teacher.” He took a quick swig himself, then stowed the flask in his backpack.

He had been, and they both knew it.

“Maybe there’s hope for us yet, Malavai.” She leaned in close, then punched him lightly on the upper arm as she pulled back.

He didn’t even flinch. “I’m counting on it.”

 


	71. Let Us Walk The Path To Redemption

They cut through the rest of the Republic troops in half the time Lana Beniko had predicted. _Could these really be seasoned Republic soldiers?_ Quinn wondered.

_If you’re going to strike at your enemy’s fortified heart, wouldn’t you send your best? Why did it feel like, except for the occasional Jedi, they were fighting raw recruits?_

Even the k’lor’slugs presented more of a challenge. Xhareen slew three of them before their incessant screeching drew the attention of a pack of young Jedi who fell quickly to her blades, Quinn’s blaster and a few of the massive slugs who were then themselves slaughtered.

“It’s just like Tython,” Xhareen whispered right as they crested a ridge and the Sith Academy complex came into view.

“I’m puzzled as well,” Lana said over the ear comms.

There was no time to inquire about that line of thought, however. The closer they got to the main Academy building, the more the bodies became Sith.

Xhareen stopped to kneel at the fallen form of a tall human male in full Sith armor at the foot of the Great Stairs. Quinn could tell she was fighting crying, especially how she was holding her cheeks taut to keep the sobs at bay. He knew her gestures, not to mention her heart, without even thinking.

“Did you know him?” he asked, as gently as he could.

“Inquisitor Arzanon. An obnoxious, paranoid zealot. But look at him. He never faltered. He held the line. He took out at least 15 of them and three Jedi.”

“Arzanon and my father attended the Academy together. I don’t envy you being there, my lord,” Lana said.

She stood up and walked up about a dozen stairs to the body of a Pureblood Sith. She knelt, and laid her hand on his bloodied shoulder, torn up by numerous blaster bolts. “This was Lord Abaron. Obsessed with purity and an unfailing xenophobe. Look at all his kills. He died side by side with overseers and inquisitors he once called impure, but in the end, they all died as Sith.”

Quinn helped her to stand, even though he knew she didn’t need it. She got to her feet and waved him off. Then she pointed at the body of an ancient woman and smiled. “Ragate. We used to joke that she was older than the statues, and when the Republic held the planet, she walked among them, and they figured she was just some Sith spirit.

“But she was much more than that. She was an Oracle, and a keeper of secrets most Sith would never dare to know. She predicted I’d meet Vette, and you.”

“You never told me that.”

“I guess I should. It’s quite the bloody story. But let’s go dispatch the rest of these intruders first.”

Quinn started to put his helmet back on. “My guess is, we’ll be fighting the strongest of the attackers from here on out, my lord.”

“I know. Be careful, Major. I don’t want to have to bury you here, too.”

~~~~~

Quinn’s guess was, for the most part, on point. They made it to the main temple area safely, although Quinn took three blaster ricochets to the chest when they encountered members of the one unit whose insignia were well known, even in the Empire: Havoc Squad.

They got no chance to finish off Quinn before Xhareen let loose a barrage of saber strikes and jumps that left true havoc in her wake. She dispatched a still-breathing soldier, lying against the entryway, with a quick Force choke.

She helped Quinn to a corner and followed his instructions for scanning him. “Looks like nothing’s broken, I just need a minute to catch my breath,” he said, trying to be reassuring.

“Don’t lie to me, Malavai. We can hide somewhere until you’re ready and if you’re injured, I can call in HK and Treek from the landing zone …”

“I’ll be fine. I truly just need a moment.”

She reached for the kolto flask on his belt. “How about a swig of this?”

“Just a sip will do, my lord.”

She smiled, so warmly he felt as restored by her as he did the kolto. He handed her his transmitter and showed her how to beam energy back to his armor.

“Excellent,” he said, getting up on his feet. “I’m back in fighting form. Let’s complete our mission.”

They entered the Academy, side by side, edging silently around the Great Column, a stone monument that not only held up the front of the massive structure, but forced visitors to pass on either side of it, dwarfed by its enormity and the ancient wisdom carved on its surface. A few blaster holes defaced it, but it was otherwise unharmed and unguarded.

The Hall of Reverence, where Imperial Guards were stationed to kneel every time a Sith or an acolyte who had passed their trials moved through, was similarly empty.

Quinn had served a week-long honor shift on Korriban as a cadet, a distinction given only to the military’s best students. He had been allowed up on the landing at the top of the Great Stairs, but he had not been this far inside the structure.

The awe he felt was matched only by the devastation that greeted them. Even Xhareen could not suppress a gasp.

Which drew the attention of two Jedi waiting outside the hallway that led to the rear of the facility. Xhareen immediately engaged them, allowing Quinn to get two good shots off at one of them, causing her to fall, unconscious.

Xhareen fought the other Jedi, a tall Chagrian, before Force pushing him backward, then unleashing her mainhand saber in a tight circle, cutting through him before his body hit the wall.

When her saber cycled back to her, she leapt to the unconscious Jedi and put her blade through her chest.

They said nothing to each other. Xhareen nodded toward the right-hand staircase to the second level.

They made their way around rubble and over cracks that left gaping holes in the balcony. Quinn followed Xhareen through a long hallway to a back chamber that was lit only by the soft orange glow of her lightsabers.

The room was empty. She went to a panel near the large desk and touched a few buttons. A green force field sealed off the room with a quiet hum.

“You look troubled, my lord,” Quinn said, unable to shake her title off in a place as sacred as this.

“This was Baras’s office after he ascended to the council. Darth Arho didn’t live long enough to even visit Korriban, but Arkous has held the job long enough that he should have at least had a presence here. Some acolytes to keep up appearances, to handle clerical matters for business that would only be conducted on Korriban. Something. Even in the middle of a war.”

“Convenient,” Quinn remarked. “Either he never bothered, or he cleared out the space quite thoroughly.”

Lana’s voice soon confirmed the former. “Though I’m as mystified as you both as to why,” she said.

“We need to get to the third floor,” Xhareen said, pointing to the back wall. “There’s a secret stairway over behind that cabinet, but we’ll have to traverse most of the top level to get to the council chambers. I have a hunch that anyone left who doesn’t belong here is up there.”

~~~~~

The stairway was clear, as was the opening. Most of the third floor held data – from the latest computer and holotechnology to rooms of ancient texts written on animal skins, flimsi, scrolls … every possible medium. The most sacred and precious records were stored on holocrons in rooms adjacent to the Great Hall where the Dark Council met on one side of the building, and the Sanctuary of the Ancients, where rituals and ceremonial events were held, on the other.

“If my hunch is correct, Quinn,” Xhareen whispered as they made their way to the central balcony that overlooked the floors below them, “we should check the library on the council side first, then the one next to the temple.”

They rounded a corner close to the balcony when three Republic soldiers began to fire. Quinn backed around the corner while Xhareen blocked their blaster bolts with her sabers. She managed to concentrate enough of them to ricochet back on one target, bringing the soldier down. Quinn dispatched another with a careful grouping of shots in the armpit where the armor was weak. The third dropped his weapon and knelt in surrender.

Clearly not Havoc Squad.

Xhareen whispered something to Quinn as they walked toward him. He looked to be all of 18 years old. Water dripped down his leg as he pissed himself. Xhareen held up her hand. “Be quiet, and we’ll let you live,” she said. He nodded. Quinn went around behind him and stuck him in the neck with a hypospray.

“Please tell me you have restraints, Major.”

“Of course,” he said, and had the boy bound hand and feet within seconds. “Here,” he said to Xhareen. “Take a few sets. Just in case.”

They walked to the balcony, Xhareen venturing out first. Before she could even turn to say, “It’s safe,” a huge cannon blast rent the walkway into pieces. Xhareen leapt to the left, but Quinn was pinned back in the hallway.

“Stay here, Malavai. That’s an order,” she said, then with the Force propelling her, she made her way around the outside in four jumps, each time escaping another cannon blast from a single Republic soldier, a surprisingly average-sized human woman to be wielding such a large weapon, on the other side.

When she got close enough, the woman was bracing herself for another shot. Xhareen again arc-tossed her mainhand saber, slicing the barrel in two and knocking the weapon from the woman’s hands.

“On your knees, soldier,” Xhareen ordered, noticing the woman bore Havoc Squad insignia on her dense plate armor.

“Never, Sith.”

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“I don’t want your kind ruining this galaxy anymore.”

“Well then, I guess we’re at an impasse,” Xhareen said, holstering her saber, then lifting her right hand and the woman’s body up in the air at the same time.

She maneuvered the soldier until her body was hanging over the edge of the blown-off balcony wall. “I can make it so you survive the drop, but you’ll wake up wishing you hadn’t. Or you can agree to let me cuff you.”

“Kriff off and die,” the woman said.

“So be it,” Xhareen replied. But she didn’t drop the woman … she just made sure to hurl her back onto the balcony and at the back wall hard enough that she’d wake up with quite the headache. She cuffed the woman just in case.

~~~~~

Quinn watched Xhareen handle the Republic soldier with awe and confusion. He wasn’t sure why she was suddenly hesitant to kill, although even he felt pity for the poor young man, brog-tied* and lying in his own piss back down the hall.

He made his way past the soldier and found a side hallway that skirted the missing portion of the balcony. He knew the direction Xhareen was headed, and found no resistance along the way.

He found her by the entrance to the Dark Council chamber. She was kneeling on the ground, next to the corpse of a Dark Honor Guard.

“He never left his post, Quinn. The Council weren't even here, and he stood his ground.” 

He could see the air start to stir around her. Then she took a deep breath, mumbled something he couldn’t make out, and the air calmed. He had seen her do this several times now, each time returning to the fight with more power than he’d ever seen in her. It was exhilarating, he had to admit. He hoped they would have a chance to discuss it after the battle. He hoped they had a chance to discuss much more. 

“You knew him, then?” 

She nodded. “His name was Naman Fal. I met him twice. First time when I was still an acolyte. His son died in the Tomb of Naga Sadow. Barely got in the door. But one of the Imperial soldiers knew him, asked me to find his body. When I'd finished with my own final trial in there, I returned the body to the soldier, then came here to tell Fal his son died well. 

“It was a lie, but he clearly wanted to believe it. That his son died nearly Sith.” She picked up his splayed-out arms and laid them across his chest. She retrieved his lightsaber and tucked it under his hands. The way a Sith should be buried. 

“Then I met him again after I defeated Baras. He said he knew I would make a difference one day. He represented the best of us, Quinn. Everything I do for the Empire, I do for people like him.” 

She fell silent as though in prayer. Quinn could see her silently mouthing words, probably in Sith, so he knelt next to her. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. But for all the familiarity they'd regained during this mission, he knew they weren't quite at physical touch yet. 

“I will make sure Sgt. Tarsten knows to recover his body, my lord,” he whispered when she was done, leaning as close to her ear as he dared. 

“Thanks. I will see to it that any family he has left is taken care of. Now let’s go meet whoever is behind this, and end them.”

~~~~~

Xhareen ordered Quinn back around the corner while she opened the door to the council meeting hall. She was prepared for a sudden attack, and didn’t want him in the line of fire.

But the chamber was empty. No one jumped out at her. No blaster fire came her way. Still, she backed out of the room and shut the door, then with Quinn’s help, found a durasteel bar that had fallen from the ceiling and barricaded the doors shut.

The library was similarly empty, though the tossed over shelves and artifacts littering the floor meant someone had been looking for something.

Xhareen approached an altar repurposed to hold several holocrons suspended above jewel-encrusted pedestals. Two of the pedestals were empty. She ran her hand along the base of one of the three still holding one of the ancient devices, which hummed at her touch. Then she turned to Quinn, who had followed her inside.

“They’re in the sanctuary. They’re waiting for me.”

“Then let’s give them what they came for, my lord. That’s why we’re here.”

She nodded, then headed down the last hallway they needed to take to win the day.

As before, she walked into the sanctuary first. The only person in there – she did not sense anyone else – was a large Republic soldier with his back to the door, presenting her with a significant and easy target.

Except she immediately knew better than to try to attack him so obviously. He wasn’t just a soldier; he was also a Jedi.

“This is unusual. A Jedi willing to get his hands dirty,” she taunted.

He turned around slowly. Of course, he had sensed her presence. “This place was already dirty, befouled. But don’t worry, Sith. I won’t be staying long.”

Lana’s voice whispered in her ear: “According to my files, his name is Commander Jensyn. A legend among the Republic military for his prowess as a warrior and a Jedi. You’re clear to take him out by any means necessary.”

“You should be the one to worry, Commander Jensyn,” Xhareen replied. “I’ve been told to make sure you don’t leave, alive, anyway.”

He took a step backward, and his bronzed skin flushed. But not with embarrassment. “So, it’s happening, it’s really happening. I didn’t think I would have served my purpose so soon,” he said.

“What do you mean, served your purpose?” she asked.

He immediately squared up his stance, and drew two lightsabers hanging from his utility belt. “We believe in a cause worth protecting, worth dying for. Do you?”

He leapt toward Xhareen. “Force, give me strength,” he shouted.

She dodged his attack but when he rushed her again, she had to engage. He was strong in the Force, although his use of it seemed to mirror his large, lumbering frame. Xhareen realized her best strategy was to stay moving; he wouldn’t be able to keep up.

Quinn kept her armor at full strength until a group of containment droids entered the fight. He fended off three of them, blasting one of them nearly to bits.

“NO!” Jensyn cried out. And even though Xhareen was nearly exhausted from the fighting, her opponent seemed suddenly deflated, missing a block that a padawan should have made.

She took him down with a swing that cut across his chest. A fourth droid, hiding in a dark corner, scurried out toward the main hall.

“Not sure why I was so worried,” he said between gasps. “We got what we came for. You won’t win.”

“Save your strength for the interrogators, Commander. My captain … the major … is a medic. He’ll get you stabilized and you can live to shout about causes all you like in Imperial prison.”

“No point threatening a dead man, Sith,” he said, pulling a stim out of his chestpiece and jabbing himself above the plate on his thigh.

Xhareen went over to him, and Quinn sprinted to her side.

She knelt by Jensyn. “Then tell me what you know.”

“You can’t stop it,” he said, barely a whisper.

 “Wait, Commander, we can have you evacuated to a hospital ship in a few minutes. I’ll personally see to it you’re a part of the next prisoner exchange,” she pleaded. Not that she was feeling particularly merciful toward him, she just needed answers. He knew something. He knew who was behind these attacks, and why.

His head fell back, his dark eyes staring at the ceiling.

Quinn touched his neck, then shook his head. Xhareen could feel the Force leaving the Jedi’s body.

“It makes no sense, Quinn. What were they doing here?”

She got up to look around the sanctuary to see if she could tell what might be missing, or what was disturbed. There had to be some sign that this was more than a symbolic attack. She made her way to a side door that connected to the library.

But as she approached it, Lord Goh came into the room. His Force essence irritated her skin like sitting too close to a fire. She turned in his direction and he shouted “No!”

Before she could react, Lana’s voice resumed in her ear. “My lord, Darth Arkous requests that you let Lord Goh take things from here.”

“Fine,” Xhareen said, reaching up and turning off her comm.

“Come on, Major,” she said, grabbing Quinn by the arm. “It’s time to go.”

~~~~~

All the way back to the shuttle pad, Xhareen simmered. She didn’t stop to meditate or even try to control her anger, but she didn’t erupt, either.

Quinn didn’t want to bother her, but he knew some arrangements would have to soon be made: She had come here in one shuttle and he in another. He thought perhaps she’d ride back to Vaiken with him, giving them hours of time to talk about what needed to be said between them.

Maybe she’d learned mind-reading in their time apart because just as he was trying to form the words to ask her, she said, “Quinn, I left my robes in the shuttle when I put on my fighting gear. If it’s OK with you, I’ll retrieve them, and my two crewmembers, and we can return together on your shuttle. I’ll task Tarsten to see to it the one I came here in gets returned.”

“Of course, my lord. That would be delight …”

In his after-action report, Quinn could not with certainty say what happened next except that Xhareen pushed him to the ground and screamed for everyone to drop and then with an unimaginable burst of power, pushed the shuttle – Arkous’s shuttle -- off the landing pad and over the edge of a cliff. Long before it would have hit bottom, a blinding column of light burst forth, and then a deafening explosion rocked the area.

It took a minute for the dust and debris to settle, and another agonizing minute for Quinn to find Xhareen, lying on the ground.

“My love, are you alright?” he said, as he cradled her in his arms.

“Quinn, say nothing, but someone wanted everyone here dead.”

~~~~~

Quinn helped Xhareen to his shuttle, which was on the far side off the landing zone, untouched by the blast. “I will get us to Vaiken as quickly as possible,” he said. “There’s a small cot in the back. You should rest as best you can on the trip.”

Xhareen wasn’t sure she could rest at all, even though every bone and muscle screamed in pain or exhaustion. She hadn’t expelled so much Force energy in one blast since the cave-in on Quesh, but that had knocked her unconscious, sparing her the pain associated with such an act. All she really cared about was getting her armor off and removing the thick layer of red dust embedded in all her exposed skin.

She shut the door of the small compartment. No shower, but there was at least a small sink and a fresher unit so she could relieve herself. She stripped down to her underclothes and began to scrub. When she thought she could scrub no more without removing her skin, she picked up her undertunic and leggings and patted them down over the commode.

She had to flush twice and prayed she hadn’t clogged up the works. Quinn would not be pleased. But then again, after all they’d been through, and all the time they’d spent apart, a petty argument over plumbing might brighten her day.

She put her mostly dust-free clothes back on and went back out into the main part of the shuttle. In the time it had taken her to clean up, the entire shuttle had been filled with cots and stretchers carrying wounded soldiers. Quinn and a tall, thin man with white hair stood talking next to one of the stretchers while a young woman in enlisted gear tended to a young man leaning against the bulkhead.

Quinn came up to her and said quietly, “My lord, I’m afraid we’ve been commandeered by medical. They lost two of their shuttles in the explosion. The good news is, however, no one died from the blast, thanks to you. Your two rather interesting crewmembers are staying behind to protect the recovery teams. But you really should go back and rest and restore your powers.”

She looked at him, at his haggard, red-streaked face. Before she could even say, “I don’t want to be alone,” he answered, “I’m needed out here with the wounded. I’ll be assisting Col. Kaes, he’s a battle surgeon. We need to keep these soldiers alive until we can get them to a hospital ship at Vaiken.”

“OK,” she managed to say. “I’ll rest. Wake me before we get there.”

~~~~~

Forty minutes outside of Vaiken space, Xhareen woke up on her own. She exited the back room and immediately caught Quinn’s gaze. He was seated on a bench near the cockpit. He smiled. She smiled back.

The colonel came over to Xhareen. “Thank you for loaning us this shuttle, and your husband, my lord,” he said. “I couldn’t have saved all these people without him. I’m sorry he’s not in the medical corps, but then again, I’m thankful the infantry has officers of his caliber.”

“The major excels at everything he does, Colonel,” she said.

“That’s high praise, Major, coming from a Sith,” he said, turning to Quinn with a wide grin on his handsome, grizzled face.

“I have learned the hard way to always trust her judgment, Colonel,” Quinn said.

They all laughed, but only Xhareen could cut through the weariness, sweat and grime on Malavai’s face to see the sorrow, the pleading and the apology those words were meant to convey to her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"brog-tied," as in "hog-tied," but based on @fluffynexu's worldbuilding series on the Animals of Ziost, which you can find here: http://fluffynexu.tumblr.com/post/166020963987/animals-of-ziost-3


	72. Where The Battle Rages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where the battle rages, there the loyalty of the soldier is proved.” 
> 
> ― Martin Luther

**_On Vaiken_ **

Lana met them in the hangar with hot towels and cold drinks.

“Darth Arkous would like to debrief you as soon as possible, my lord,” she said.

“With one condition: Major Quinn accompanies me.”

She could see Lana shift, then frown slightly. Xhareen was not going to budge.

“The Major understands Sith dealings, then?”

Xhareen had to admit she liked this woman, even when she was being sneaky. She wondered if Zavaa had ever encountered her. Lana acted more like a spy than a mere advisor to the head of the Sphere of Military Offense.

“You know who he is to me, so that question should answer itself. Not to mention, I’m sure you memorized both of our dossiers by now.”

Lana smiled, then put her hand to her mouth and laughed, an oddly demure gesture for a Sith of her status. “Just being cautious. For the Major’s sake, that is.”

Xhareen leaned in and whispered, still loud enough for Quinn to hear, “If he were Force sensitive, he would make a frightful Sith.”

He blushed. As she had intended.

Lana’s concern was for naught, as Arkous held what couldn’t even generously be called a debriefing. He gave a short speech of congratulations, then an annoyingly pious recitation of Imperial victories. Lord Goh had made it back already, and was seated in the corner of the room. He said nothing.

Xhareen would hardly call the wreckage left behind on Korriban a victory. She didn’t mention the shuttle explosion. Nor did she mention the suspiciously short time it took for the Republic to travel all the way to Korriban from the core, undetected, or the green troops and Jedi they faced.

It was as if Arkous had known the outcome of the battle before it even ended. “If there’s anything that happened that my advisor didn’t record, please let her know and, thank you for your service, my lord. And Major …”

“Major Malavai Quinn, my lord,” Quinn said with a respectful bow.

“Yes, Major Quinn. Thank you both. You are dismissed.”

Xhareen wasn’t going to even bother being offended. She waited until they were well clear of Arkous’s situation room before turning to Quinn to ask, “Did it feel like Arkous wasn’t holding a debriefing but rather addressing a stadium full of adoring fans?”

Quinn didn’t answer right away. He got a momentary, far-off look on his face, then said, “That’s it! Come on, we have to get to the ship.”

~~~~~

Vette met them in the hangar outside the Covenant. Because of her status, Xhareen had her own private hangar on the station, complete with its own security system and Imperial Honor Guards in their unmistakable red robes.

It felt much more like a ceremonial welcome than the one they’d just received.

She and Vette hugged for several moments before pulling away, Xhareen sniffling and Vette drying her eyes. They didn’t need words to express how much they missed each other, and neither one even bothered to try.

They walked, arm in arm, onto the ship, Quinn following closely and silently behind.

“I sliced the security set up here and made it, you know, much safer,” Vette said after they entered the ship and the door closed solidly behind them.

“Vette, are you going to give us the briefing right away, or are you going to chain Xhareen to a chair for your special presentation?” Quinn was smiling, but Xhareen could tell there was a subtext she was missing. An “only Vette” type subtext, she was sure.

“I’m dying to hear that story,” Xhareen said.

“Yeah, well, Major Disaster here got the premium package last time he graced us with his presence. But since all this other stuff has happened, let’s have the group meet up first, shall we?”

~~~~~

Xhareen could follow Vette and Quinn’s trail of evidence easily as they laid out Zavaa’s findings about a network of communications with at least three dozen nexus points, one of which was Nerida Broysc, daughter of the man Quinn had assassinated with Xhareen’s approval.

She recoiled in horror when she realized the escaped prisoner that forced the security crackdown at the House of Undesirables was Voloren, and that he had tried to kill Quinn. That he had killed Quinn’s duplicitous communications officer. And a half dozen soldiers.

“I’m so sorry,” was all she could say as Quinn recounted the horror on the station on Khar Delba. She hoped that someday, she could tell him that she had seen the devastation in a nightmare. But not today.

She was as puzzled as the rest of them were at Tolliver Broysc’s assistance, and urged caution in any further dealings with him.

But she wasn’t quite ready to accept Quinn’s conclusion.

“A cult? You think Darth Arkous is running a cult?”

“It would make sense, my lord. Stealing Force artifacts, aligning with arms dealers, crossing faction boundaries, co-opting the powerful as well as the common man for the cause. Stoking religious fervor while planning for armed insurrection. Relatively textbook.”

“Remember those weird cultists we ‘vacationed’ with on Dromund Kaas?” Vette asked.

“Yes, the Revanites,” Xhareen said as she rose and began to pace around the conference room. “They certainly loved collecting their artifacts. But I thought they were all exiled to Begeren.” She laughed. “Darth Charnus certainly pulled one over on Baras that time. … Wait, Charnus. He was left in charge of Corellia. He let it fall and was thought lost in the final battle. Was there ever any proof of death?”

“Another thing to put on the to-do list,” Vette said.

Xhareen recalled, mostly for Quinn’s benefit, all she knew about the secretive group of Sith who were involved in Maker only knew what plots and schemes as the Empire battled for Corellia, about Lord Rathari being sent under cover, and she also relayed about meeting the Jedi and her predecessor, Lord Scourge.

“Whether all these things are related, I can’t tell. I … I never followed up on them after …” She drew a sharp breath and stopped.

Quinn rose from his chair to get to her side, to comfort her, but Vette beat him to it.

“It’s OK, Xhareen. Why don’t you get some food and some rest and I’ll check into all these leads for you. Send Toovee out to get something from one of the restaurants near here. We kinda lucked out on that front.”

“I’ll assist you with that, my lord,” Quinn offered. “I must check in with command first, but then perhaps we can sit and discuss food and … other things.”

~~~~~

Xhareen barely got out the door before Vette stopped her. “I need you to come back to my mainframe room for a few minutes. You really need to see this stuff before you and Quinn have any talks.”

~~~~~

Vette left her alone in the room with instructions on which buttons to push first. “You can read Quinn’s journals from Corellia later, but you need to know that Nerida Broysc was the reason neither of you heard from each other all those months. You know what you tried to say to him, and these were the messages he intended all along for you to get,” she told her.

Xhareen replayed Quinn’s messages to her three times each, but she could only get through his journal entries to their daughter once before getting up from the table and sliding down in the nearest corner, giving herself up to the sobbing.

Vette came back a few minutes later. Xhareen was still sitting in the corner, but had comported herself by then.

“Where do I even start with him, Vette?”

“You know the answer. Now go to him or I will drag you myself.”

~~~~~

She saw Quinn heading toward the aft compartment with his travel bag in hand.

“Where do you think you’re going, Major?” she demanded.

“I … I don’t have to report in officially until morning. I thought I would attempt to negotiate for a spare rack with your well-armed bear standing back there and grab a short nap.”

“You’re not sleeping in my bunkroom.”

His face fell. He nearly dropped the bag. “Apologies my lord. I did not mean to presume. There is an officer’s billet nearby. I can get a bed there, perhaps.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “You can’t leave. Nerida Broysc could still have an active bounty on you. But there is one condition under which I will allow you to remain on my ship.”

“Anything you require, my lord,” he said without hesitation.

“Put your bag in my quarters. We can go in there and talk.”

He smiled broadly and his eyes lit up like a child on Life Day. “I have a better idea.”

Xhareen tsked at him. “You usually do.”

“How about I put my bag in your quarters. Then I go to the galley and prepare us both a hot bowl of porridge.”

“If that comes with a side of caff, then you’re on.”

“I could use something stronger.”

“Good. We can do both.”

~~~~~

Xhareen sat in the galley and watched him cook. “I missed your leadership around here, Quinn.”

“If you’re saying I’m a better cook than Toovee, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He handed her a large mug of caff. She inhaled it before taking a sip. Of course, he chose the premium Kaasian blend he knew was her favorite. He sat a small bottle of Kaasian brandy beside it.

“So, now I know all about Broysc’s daughter,” she said, adding a splash of the liquor to her drink. “She’s not just the star of our mystery cult drama, she clearly used some advantage to make drama between you and me. I can’t believe I fell for it.”

Quinn sat down and slid a steaming bowl of white grain porridge, made salty and soupy like she liked it. His concoction was firmer, and he drizzled Alderaanian honey over top it. He’d made himself a large cup of the caff as well, and embellished it as Xhareen had done.

“I don’t even know where to start, Xhareen. I never should have left you on that ship. I should have held you in my arms, stroked your hair, told you how much I…” He stopped, then took a sip from his cup.

“And I should have never left you so alone and afraid of me. I should have come to you, made sure you knew you were forgiven. That I could never hurt you again. I close my eyes and I see your face, still …”

“We were both grieving, Xhareen. We lost a child. I nearly lost you. Vette made sure I knew you locked yourself in a room for a month.”

She stirred her porridge then took a spoonful. Then another. “How do we get around this, then?”

He reached over and put his hand on hers. “Together. That’s all we can do.”

She couldn’t be certain, but that had to be a worry line on his forehead. She reached up and stroked it. He closed his eyes, and sighed. “It was wrong of me to let you think I blamed you for our child’s death,” she said.

“It was wrong of me to think your decision that day was so simple. I ended up facing the same kind of challenges and … now I don’t know …”

He filled in all the details they hadn't yet discussed about Lt. Kirrika and Voloren. “I was betrayed. I had a no-win decision to make. Voloren is dead, but it’s certainly no victory, for any of us," he said.

“I kept making excuses for you. I didn’t even know these things, but I refused to let go of you,” Xhareen said before he could speak again. “To Jaesa especially. She thinks I should have nothing to do with you, at least not personally.”

“You probably shouldn’t.”

She sat her cup down a bit too hard, spilling some of the hot liquid on her hand and on the table. “You need to stop thinking like that, Malavai. That’s why we’re here, having a conversation about the future of our relationship. Again.”

“Old habit, I’m sorry.” He reached for a cloth and dried off her hand. “Are you burned? Should I get …”

Xhareen stood up, leaned over and kissed him.

“I’m too tired to do anything but get horizontal and fall asleep, but let’s go to my quarters and continue this conversation, please?”

He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Whatever you ask, my love.”

~~~~~

“I hope it’s not too painful to mention this, but I had a very vivid dream of us, and our daughter,” Quinn said as they were changing into more comfortable clothes.

“We were on a beach ...” he began.

Xhareen interrupted him: “And you fell asleep and woke up confused. And then we were sitting around a dining table full of family and friends …” 

“Celebrating our wedding anniversary and you let her drink wine.” Quinn sat down on the bed.

“Then a wedding. You were wearing a uniform I’d never seen before … I had always suspected this, Malavai. Since we first became lovers.”

“You suspected that we would share a dream after a horrific tragedy?”

She sat down next to him. “No, it’s called a Force bond. It normally only happens between Force users.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

She pushed him back on the bed. “Well, lie down and let me explain it to you.”

~~~~~

**_Three hours later_ **

_As I look at Malavai lying on the bed, half dressed, hair mussed, I can only think how terrifying it must be inside that head of his._

_He is forced to live knowing that the woman he loves, his wife, could kill him at any time. Because she has tried before._

_I warned him once that life on my ship would be harrowing. I meant that about fighting our enemies. I never meant it to be about me._

_But as I trace the edges of his face with my fingers, and he murmurs something in his sleep, I can’t help but relive it, again. When I tried to kill him, but could not. In my dreams, he slips away into the embrace of deep space regardless._

_He dreams of it, too. Though we have spent only precious hours together since that day, so many months ago, I have still heard him talk in his sleep and I know. We share our dreams and our nightmares, my love._

_As I get up to use the fresher and to check how many hours we have left before you leave again, I vow this to myself: If it takes me a century, Malavai Quinn, I will make it up to you._

**~~~~~**

_I watch her walk away from the bed, stripping off her clothing as she goes. I never get tired of her body – all the moves it’s capable of making, all its angles and its curves. She is extraordinary. She is powerful. She can give life and she can take it away._

_I forgave her months ago. I will forgive her forever. I will endeavor to keep forgiving myself as well._

_I keep running away from her. I have hurt her more than any weapon, any enemy could. She thinks I am afraid of her, I know it._

_But I have conquered my fears. Of Broysc, who kept a boot on my neck for a decade. Of Baras, who tried to take everything from me. Of Voloren, who stalked me as I stalked him. Of her and the power she commands. My love for her is stronger than any adversity and I was a fool to ever doubt that._

_These old enemies are gone. My past is behind me. My fears are vanquished. You are my future. I have faith in you. If it takes me a century, my beloved wife, I will make it up to you._

~~~~~

Xhareen slipped out from Quinn’s arm. She ran her finger along his jawline, so perfect and strong. He mumbled something, but didn’t wake. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, was going to come next between them, but she wanted to be clean regardless.

She’d sponged off on the shuttle but nothing could compare with the feeling of washing the remnants of a battle off in hot, streaming water. She was certain it would take multiple showers to get all the red dust from all the crevasses of her body anyway. Might as well start now. Even if Quinn was gone when she got out.

But it had been good to see him, to fight with him, to cry on his chest and have him hold her until the spasms stopped. If there wasn’t any chance for them to resume their relationship, at least they started the grieving process together. No matter that it was months late.

She let the water stream over her, the grassy-scented soap Kayda had brought her taking her back to her homeworld. Instead of a gray shower stall on a Sith ship, she was running through the fields behind her house, chasing their ugly brown cat, stalking some small but unfortunate creature that would fall to her slingshot or bow. Begging her Nama to hide the teeth and claws she kept as souvenirs, and watching over her growing credit account that she was earning from selling skins and meat through the tanner who lived on the edge of the forest where …

“It always amazed me, how hot you liked your water.”

It was Quinn. Gloriously naked Quinn, stepping into the shower stall with her. “You don’t mind, do you?”

_Oh Malavai, how could I ever mind?_

“I don’t know … My previous captain was a stickler about shower regulations. But you’ll need to get closer to get under the spray or else you’re just wasting water, _visiting_ Major Quinn.”

He moved up next to her and put his arms around her. “I’m not presuming, am I?”

“You’re my husband, Malavai.”

“For the sake of my conscience, I would prefer a yes or no answer, my lord.”

“No, silly.” She tried to laugh but started to sob instead. “I guess I wasn’t done earlier. I haven’t finished grieving us.”

He kissed the top of her head, then took her chin in his hand and lifted her face up toward his. She greeted his lips with her own, hungry for the touch, for the feeling of his flesh pressed against hers, for the growing erection he was now rubbing against her.

“How is it, my darling, that in all the time we were together, we never made love in the shower?”

“As I said, Major, my previous captain would have been scandalized by the wasting of so much water. He took regulation three-minute showers.”

“Well then. Kriff him.”

She reached around and grabbed his ass cheeks. “I’m hoping to.”

“Put your hands around my neck,” he said. When she did, he lifted her up against the side wall.

“Remember when you carried me all that way on Tatooine?”

“I hope you’re not thinking to re-create that here. That truly would require a scandalous amount of water.”

They both laughed and then kissed again, playfully this time, biting lips and teasing each other with their tongues.

“Hold on,” he said as he slipped himself inside her. He began to thrust, not hard, just enough so that she slid for just a few inches up and down along the smooth wall.

But as they both found their footing, so to speak, he started to push harder. If they were still under the water spray, Xhareen could no longer tell, nor did she give a single damn.

Quinn stopped right before she came, giving her a deep kiss before tracing a line with his lips along her shoulder blade. He let her down slowly, then knelt in front of her, teasing her clit with his tongue until she grabbed his hair as she climaxed for what felt like an hour.

But the water was still hot as Quinn stood back up, and putting a hand on her hip, he spun her gently until she was facing the back wall. She planted her feet apart and arched her backside toward him.

“You have no idea how much I missed this,” he said as he grabbed and massaged her ass cheeks. “I’ve missed all of you, but forgive me if I mention some of my favorite parts.”

“You’re forgiven, darling. You know that.”

“You have no idea what that means to me. In all seriousness.” He leaned in and kissed her on her shoulder, sending a shiver down her back she knew he could feel, too.

She couldn’t help thinking about what he’d said earlier about having the same dream she did, or about how she had always felt during their lovemaking, and now all these shared sensations. She should have mentioned the Force bond to him long ago, when she realized she sensed his orgasms nearly as strongly as she did her own.

But it was even more powerful now. That Quinn was not a Force user apparently made no difference – to the Force at least. Perhaps it was the one last gift their daughter had given them.

She soon put all thoughts aside, however, as Quinn reached down and slipped himself back inside her and began to thrust, forcefully this time. She backed up to meet his body as he grabbed her hips and started moving faster and faster until he came with a shout he muffled by leaning into her shoulder.

She shuddered with pleasure – his pleasure melting into hers. He held her until he slipped out, then spun her around again until she was under the still pleasantly warm water.

They were reborn, in a steaming cloud of water and passion. There would be nothing that could break them up now.

Quinn looked at her with equal parts passion and reverence.

“Quinn, we …” she began.

“I know,” is all he said.

Then he took the liquid cleanser and poured just enough to soap up her hair. She moved her hands up to touch his as he massaged her scalp, laughing as his nerflick defied any attempt to be put back into place.

But then she stopped, and just stood there and reveled in Quinn’s attention. She rinsed her hair, then motioned for Quinn to bend over so she could return the favor. She nearly kissed his soapy head, she was so overjoyed at this small act of intimacy. Marriage was considered a sacrament, at least among the Sith, and she finally, at this moment, understood that completely.

They took turns soaping each other’s bodies – thoroughly – and when they were both soap free, Quinn leaned in for another long, deep kiss. The water was now starting to cool off.

When it was over, Xhareen reached back and turned off the water. Before she could say anything, Quinn spoke.

“I love you, Xhareen. I’m out of excuses for my behavior but I will never be out of love with you.”

She began to giggle, devolving quickly into a full laugh. “You should write ads for Jawa grams.”

He shrugged and curled his lip as though considering it as a viable career move. “If that’s how I get back into your good graces, then that’s what I shall do.”

“I don’t know about you, my poet, but I’m going to dry off now,” Xhareen teased.

“Good idea. I wouldn’t want to get your bed too wet.”

“Are we going back there?” she asked, in all seriousness as she grabbed a towel.

“I’m counting on it.”

Xhareen began to dry him off. He gladly complied and then returned the favor.

When they were done, Xhareen led him by the hand to the bed where they spent the rest of the night making up for lost time.

~~~~~

**_The next morning_ **

Quinn was not in bed when Xhareen woke up, but his travel bag and clothing were still in the room.

She found him in the galley, drinking caff. The bottle of brandy was out, too.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s meant to be ‘wrong,’ necessarily, but I’m on medical leave until further notice.”

“Why?”

“Officially? I was involved in a traumatic event that resulted in the deaths of several of my troops and that led to the abandonment of an Imperial base. Then, everything that went down on Korriban.”

Xhareen hoped this was just a formality, or a bonus, even if Quinn wasn’t taking it that way.

She motioned for him to stand up, took his hand and led him toward the bridge.

“Come on then. Let’s go home.”

 


	73. Home Is Not A Place

**_Dromund Kaas_ **

Xhareen and Quinn both knew they had duties to fulfill, important duties critical to the war effort and the security of the Empire. Of less priority but more immediate concern, there were family matters to attend to and visits to be made.

But they both begged for “alone time” to help them mend their fractured marriage. Xhareen wanted nothing more than to finally spend time at home … the home she had secured to start a family with Malavai.

Vette agreed to stay with Kayda at the Quinn family estate, though with explicit instructions not to mention Xhareen and Malavai’s reunion. Jaesa had gone to the farm to be with her parents, who now split their time between Xhareen’s two homes. Jaesa had taken Treek with her, easily luring her away from Xhareen’s side with a promise of better hunting grounds.

HK insisted on accompanying Xhareen, which she agreed to as long as he stayed in the house unless she ordered him otherwise. He decamped to the communications room, the one room not on Toovee’s regular cleaning schedule.

“Observation: Your factotum droid is …”

“Not your concern, HK. You will both learn to inhabit this space for as long as I deem it in my best interest to keep you activated, are we clear.”

“Obeisance: Yes, Master.”

Not all their alone time was spent in the bedroom, which the Willsaams had completely redone since Xhareen had locked herself up here for more than a month. Gone were the stormy grays and astringent reds, replaced with crisp greens and blooming yellows, mirroring the still-improving climate since Vitiate’s departure.

In later years, Xhareen would often call upon memories of those hours she spent with Quinn, in the office she had designed for him, discussing their new estates and how to run them and all the plans she had that she wanted to get his opinions on. Should they flood half the farm and grow kelp, or terrace it and grow rice?

“I could keep you in porridge forever if we do that,” Quinn remarked.

Or exploring the wine cellar Ekkage had left behind decades earlier. Not every bottle had survived, but dozens of now rare vintages made the cellar an investment in its own right. “But we’re not going to be saving them to sell, but to savor,” Xhareen decreed.

On their second morning, Xhareen led Quinn to an area in the back not visible from his office window. They walked into an area walled off by a tall hedge, which Quinn thought would lead to a maze, a feature that would have been popular when the estate was first established. Instead, he was surprised by a stately gazebo with two benches and a table, potted plants and statues of a kind he’d never seen before.

“I called in a few debts from Makeb to get them,” she said. He gave her a confused look, but she said no more.

They sat together on a bench and Xhareen shifted around next to him for a minute before settling down. “I thought maybe we should talk about Avireen’s funeral,” she said.

“I want to hear all about it. I need to,” Quinn replied. Xhareen explained the entire visit to him. He vowed they would make a journey to her family burial ground, just the two of them, as soon as possible. “Depending on how long the military considers me ill,” he said.

That wasn’t everything on her mind, however.

“Do you really believe like you wrote in your journals, that you will see her again when you die?” she asked. It was very likely heresy to even consider such a notion; the Jedi might have believed Force users could persist in some form after death, but it was the Sith way to fight off death to the point that there would always be some fool striving for immortality.

He pulled her close. “I’d like to. Even if it’s just a glimpse.”

“It would be so unfair,” she said, burying her face in Quinn’s chest.

“Why’s that, my love?”

“If I were to persist in the Force, but not you …”

“It’s just speculation. We can save worrying about that for some decade in the future, Xhareen.”

He held her for another hour. They said very little, until Xhareen declared she was famished and it was time for an early lunch.

On the fourth day, they decided to check in with Quinn’s family. Xhareen made the call, and Ellys Quinn asked after her well-being with genuine concern. They spoke for a few moments before Xhareen said she had an announcement.

“I have some good news,” Xhareen said, motioning to Quinn, who had stood outside the holocam’s view. He moved in next to Xhareen, put his arm around her, and they turned for a quick kiss.

Ellys shrieked with delight. “Thank the stars! I was getting ready to call Drayden and order an intervention for you both!”

“Perhaps someday we can tell you the full story, Mother. It’s not as simple as the two of us being idiots,” Malavai said.

“Except we were idiots,” Xhareen added. He kissed her again.

Not to be outdone, Kayda came into view. “Malavai, I have someone I’d like for you to meet. This is Esmiala.”

A beautiful, auburn-haired woman came into view. Malavai blanched, then swallowed hard. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Pierce,” he said, with a polite bow.

“Dammit, Mal! Who told you?”

Xhareen was doubled over with laughter by this point. She waved her arms and shook her head to make sure Kayda knew she was not the one who squealed.

“Captain Pierce called me ‘brother,’ twice. I figured it out when I saw the hair. I can’t quite figure the genetics out that could produce someone as lovely as you, Esmiala, as well as … your brother. But welcome to the Quinn family.”

“Thank you, because while no one’s going to talk me out of being with your sister, Major, I’m betting family gatherings will be a bit more interesting now,” Esmiala said.

“Just keep your brother away from the liquor cabinet, and all should be fine,” Malavai said.

“Duly noted.”

They ended the call with a promise to visit soon.

~~~~~

A few days later, Xhareen stood in the doorway of Quinn’s office and watched him after an early supper, holding a snifter of brandy in his hand while going over crop reports on the bespoke terminal Vette had acquired for him (Xhareen knew better than to ask anything more about it). Small holos of tractor droids and molecular models of fish-based fertilizers danced across the desk. It was a moment of tranquility she would never forget.

Because like all such moments, it seems, it was quickly punctuated by a call that would change everything.

Xhareen took the call there in Quinn’s office. He put down the brandy and joined her. It was from Lana, who’d been quiet since the debriefing with Darth Arkous on Vaiken. Xhareen suddenly realized she missed Lana’s omnipresent voice in her ear, guiding her during the fraught battles on Tython and Korriban.

“I’m here on Dromund Kaas, delivering reports for Darth Arkous, my lord. I’d love to meet with you to see your home. I’m told it’s quite the historic gem.” Something in her voice, though, hinted that Lana had much more than Kaasian architecture on her mind.

“Of course, Lana. Malavai and I have already had supper, but we could prepare a lovely dessert or whatever you desire,” Xhareen said.

“That would be nice. I will be there in less than an hour, according to the traffic guides.”

Lana arrived on time in a decidedly non-Sith outfit, gray-green, loose-fitting trousers with a matching vest over a long-sleeved white blouse. A silver scarf hid her shining yellow hair. She carried a rucksack. No weapon or holster was visible.

They exchanged pleasantries and Xhareen informed her there were drinks and light snacks in the office. When they were inside, and the door shut, Lana whispered, “Is it secure?”

“Yes, Lana, the whole house is secure, but if we’re going to need secure communications, we have a special room on the lower level.”

Lana breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m going to take a drink, some of those cakes and then please, let’s adjourn downstairs. There’s much I have to tell you, and all of it is troubling.”

Lana laid out all her concerns: the mysterious timing of the two attacks, Lord Goh’s strange behavior, Darth Arkous’s travel patterns over the past eight months, his glowing but incomplete reports to the Dark Council, not to mention, a troubling gap of two years of his life in the not-so-distant past.

“Was he part of Malgus’s conspiracy, by any chance?” Xhareen asked.

“That was my thought, too, but I have come up with nothing. I was wondering, though, if the Major had any previous knowledge of him, perhaps through Darth Baras?”

Quinn shook his head. “Baras excelled at keeping his assets compartmentalized. I was under the impression Arkous got the job after Arho’s brief tenure precisely because he had no ties to Baras that might come back to haunt the Council.”

“Quinn’s right, Lana. Darth Marr specifically told me he would replace Baras with someone qualified but not in any way aligned. I’m sure he thought that would placate me after all my former master put me through. My guess is he thought both Arho and Arkous fit the bill.”

“What has bothered me, though, is how Arkous has managed to keep his job despite so many recent setbacks for the Empire,” Quinn said. “Balmorra and Corellia falling, and other minor planets the same week as Balmorra … one does not normally survive a record like that.”

Xhareen cleared her throat. She hadn’t mentioned why she was on Makeb to anyone, not even Quinn. Though that was mostly due to other, more personal priorities since their reunion.

“Some of those were tactical retreats of sorts, my love, engineered by Darth Marr himself. It would take me too long to explain now, though I will if it becomes relevant,” she said. Xhareen didn’t want to dredge up her resentment at the Empire’s strategy of taking resources, not planets, and all that it had cost her.

“There’s another matter as well,” Lana said. “Arkous has numerous files about an historical figure named Revan. Your name came up in one of them.”

Xhareen nodded. “I spent time with a small cult devoted to Revan while I was on Dromund Kaas. It was under Baras’s orders. He wanted to find some way to trap a rival, Darth Charnus. They managed to escape before Baras’s scheme could play through. I never did learn where they ended up.”

She thought for a moment. “They were well trained, and well armed. Do you think Arkous is using them as part of some insurrection?”

“It’s entirely possible. Think about it. They’re fanatically devoted to a cause and ready to fight for it. They’ve been persecuted by the Empire, but now, a powerful Sith is giving them attention.”

Lana massaged her temples for a moment. “I wonder if they’re what I keep sensing … this writhing mass of undefinable Force energy that’s tied to Darth Arkous, but then again, isn’t. I never thought a conspiracy could manifest itself as an entity like this seems to be.”

Xhareen turned to Quinn, who gave her a quick nod. “I need to bring someone else into this conversation, Lana. I’m beginning to suspect that a not-so-little drama Quinn and I are caught up in might be part of this, too. I can contact her securely, but I know she’s not going to want to discuss anything until she can get here.

“So I suggest we return upstairs and get some proper food and drink for you while we wait for my friend Vette to arrive.”

~~~~~

After comparing notes – Lana had snuck out a dataspike of her findings on Darth Arkous and Lord Goh, and Vette compared them to her own growing cache of information – they determined that there was an unusual confluence of odd communications and credits flowing to the water world of Manaan. Including a hefty sum from one of the Broysc family’s medical conglomerates.

As with what she’d uncovered from Quinn’s computers on Khar Delba, Vette found an odd requisition form that translated into coordinates for an underwater medical lab, set up for the testing of “advanced kolto formulations for genetic repair protocols.”

“So, husband, how do you look in a swimsuit?” Xhareen asked. “Looks like we’re taking a honeymoon on Manaan.”

~~~~~

The next morning, as they were packing and making all the arrangements, Quinn got a call from Col. Ovech. He came back upstairs to their bedroom suite with a pained look on his face.

“Seems I won’t be able to attend my own honeymoon. I’ve been recalled early. There’s been an incident on Ilum.”

He sat on the bed and stared at the floor. Xhareen sat next to him and put her arm around him. “Tell me, darling.”

After a few moments, he spoke. “A routine maintenance probe attempting to de-ice an underground pipe caused a cave-in that collapsed half of the barracks. Major Embrey and several dozen of my … my former troops were killed.” He rubbed his hand over his brow and sighed. “I probably don’t even have to tell you I warned my superiors about this.”

She comforted him for a few minutes until he was ready to resume talking. 

“High Command is, yet again, reformulating the ranks after recent battles,” he said. “They’ve got a host of newly trained alien soldiers who are going to be chartered out of Ziost. We’re to be posted there temporarily until the Empire figures out what to do with us.”

Xhareen bent Quinn’s head down onto her shoulder and held him until he stopped crying. It was her turn to be strong for him.

“Home is not a place, Malavai. It’s you,” she said. “We’ll be together again, my love. You have my word on that.”

~~~~~

Fortunately, Broonmark was scheduled to be released in two days from the private hospital where he had been treated, at no small expense, by the son of an old colleague of Ellys Quinn’s. It didn’t take much convincing for Kayda to secure his early release, and he was in full, furious fighting form when Xhareen met him at the spaceport.

As a display of his fitness for battle, he picked Xhareen up and spun her around until she begged him to put her down. But she wasn’t angry with him, just relieved that he was healthy again and that he hadn’t torn up any buildings while he was “imprisoned” – his word – during his recovery.

“I’m warning you now, Broonmark. If you think Dromund Kaas is stuffy and full of rules, it will seem like Tatooine compared to Manaan. You can come as long as you behave. If you don’t, you won’t just make me angry. The Selkath use the death penalty quite liberally on off-worlders,” Xhareen warned.

He sighed – at least, she thought that’s what he was doing – like a teenager told to clean his room, but agreed to behave for as long as he had to, though he was eager to fight again. A shiver ran down her spine as she said, “Something tells me you’ll get your wish.”

Quinn showed up a few minutes later, in full dress uniform. He had a small package in his hands.

“I’m going to get through this without blubbering, my love. I hope we can be reunited in short order but until then, this will have to suffice.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her. When she stepped back, he handed her the package.

“Please don’t open it until you leave the planet. It’s not much, but … well, you’ll see.”

“Thank you, darling. Just know as I do, that what you’re doing is for the Empire.”

“For the Empire,” he said, bowing. “Now I must take my leave.”

She watched him as he walked away, smiling at the thought she always had: that at least as he was leaving her, she got to watch his best side.

It was difficult, but she did as she promised and waited until they cleared planetary control and were prepping for hyperspace to open the package.

It was an Imperial military cap. And a note.

_“My darling, it’s silly, I know, but I cannot bear the thought of you not having a hat of mine with you at all times. This is the cap I acquired from the quartermaster after you purloined my last one. Do not get me wrong: For all the pain and tragedy you have suffered, if it gave you a small measure of peace to leave my other cap with our daughter, then I have a small measure of peace as well. Keep this one safe. We will be needing it at some point. You know what I mean. Lovingly, your husband, Malavai.”_

She put the hat on her head and wore it for the rest of the day. No one on the ship said anything.

~~~~~

**_En route to Ziost_ **

Quinn wasn’t sure if his idea would fly with High Command. He thought Ovech might go for it, however, and he was certain he could get his captains to agree, assuming he was going to be reunited with the command staff he had previously.

He wanted to have everything in order before he presented the idea to Xhareen, however.

She gave him her word. They would be together again. He had to respond in kind.

He pulled out a datapad and began getting his thoughts in order.


	74. Haunted By Waters

Xhareen decided within minutes of landing that she hated Manaan.

The air smelled of fish and seaweed, with a sharp iodine stench layered over the rot permeating every space they went. It was like standing in a swamp on Dromund Kaas on the hottest day of the year after a particularly nasty lightning storm had flash fried the entire biome and left the rotting corpses as a reminder that one should not be standing in a swamp on Dromund Kaas on the hottest day of the year.

Treek and Broonmark decreed they would stay with the ship unless otherwise called for. Xhareen suspected they were both getting nauseous from the constant swaying of the surface facilities. Kayda had brilliantly thought to bring along a large satchel of seasick stims. Xhareen planned to take one every six hours as a precaution.

While they were in hyperspace, Lana had secured an old bank building to use as a headquarters. It was on an outlying platform, just off the “coast” of Ahto City, the main Selkath settlement. Even though there was no natural land above the surface of the ocean, for the convenience of off-world visitors, the Selkath still called their structures “islands” and described them in terms familiar to dry landers.

Xhareen provided some cover by calling in a favor or two from her old Hutt financier connections. Setting up a new bank would entail many meetings -- private meetings -- giving them access to the best restaurants and boltholes. The Selkath didn’t mind having galactic credits flowing through their cities, as long as they didn’t have to partake in any of the day-to-day operations. It was a safe bet that they would be left alone.

Xhareen was coming back from lunch – she’d paid a ridiculous amount of money for a meal that wasn’t fish – when Lana called her to the main office with a smile.

“We seem to have our first customer, and he’s a rather interesting fellow.”

“By customer you mean …”

“Someone else who appears to be on the same trail we are.”

“How is that possible? Is it safe? What if they’re an agent of Arkous’s?”

Lana kept smiling. “I highly doubt it, given that he’s a spy for the SIS.”

Xhareen sat down on the nearest chair. “Things got interesting quickly, didn’t they?”

~~~~~

The meet was to be held at a small hotel on the main island, which housed most of the Selkath governing offices. Though watercraft were available for free travel between the islands, Xhareen and her crew unanimously decided to spend money for a shuttle to take them everywhere instead. It fit their cover, and preserved Kayda’s 0precious supply of stims.

The spy insisted on a small meeting only, so it was decided that it would just be Lana, Xhareen and Jaesa. They agreed on no weapons, but that wouldn’t stop the three Force users from defending themselves in case thing went sideways.

He didn’t come alone. When she saw who was with him, Xhareen reflexively stood in front of Jaesa, cursing that she hadn’t managed to smuggle in at least one light saber. And maybe Vette with a blaster.

It was the Twi’lek Jedi Xhareen had seen on Corellia. Suddenly, all the subterfuge became clear.

“You’re not taking her, Jedi, and you, spy, I will make you pay for setting this trap,” Xhareen said.

“Whoa, whoa!” the spy said, waving his hands in the air. “It’s not like that. We aren’t here for Jaesa Willsaam. And we’re also unarmed.”

“I’d die before I went back with you anyway,” Jaesa said.

The Jedi, who had not drawn a weapon, backed up. “We’re on the same screen here, guys,” she said. “So, maybe some introductions and a bit of calm?”

Xhareen relaxed, but only just. “Your colleague Scourge treated me fairly. Unless you show me otherwise, I’ll extend you the same courtesy. I’m Xhareen Nah-garesh, though I’m sure that’s somewhere in your Republic dossiers.”

“We were never properly introduced, Lord Wrath. My name is Gislaran. I’ve been with the Jedi so long, I don’t use a surname anymore.”

Xhareen nodded. “You’re the Battlemaster, the Hero of Tython and yet not a council member. My crewmember and good friend has followed your exploits against the slavemasters quite closely.”

“And you’re not a Dark Council member, either.”

“I’m sure we both made our career choices for similar reasons, Gislaran,” Xhareen said with a smile.

“I have no regrets,” Gislaran said. She held herself like a Jedi – calm, impassive – but Xhareen could sense a clouding of the Force around her. But then again, the four Force users in the room would likely cause all sorts of huffing and puffing from purists among their respective faction leaders – all of them unquestionably strong but equally complex in how they used the Force.

After a moment sizing each other up, Lana stepped forward and bowed politely. “I’m Lana Beniko.”

“Advisor to Darth Arkous himself. I’m Theron Shan, by the way.” He stepped forward with his hand extended, but none of the Imperial women took him up on the offer to shake. He backed off.

He was charming without even knowing it, gawky and composed at the same time and Xhareen was not going to lie, quite handsome. His name gave her pause, and Lana’s subtly raised eyebrow confirmed that Theron Shan was, indeed, the son of the Jedi grandmaster. How that happened must be an incredible story she couldn’t wait to hear.

“OK then. Best get right to business. We are tracking some suspicious behavior that no one on Coruscant wants to discuss, even after the attack on Tython,” he said.

“Don’t forget the convenient and quick reprisal on Korriban,” Xhareen said.

“Yeah, we noticed that, too. Near as I can calculate, an attack fleet was on its way to Imperial space before the attack on the Jedi Temple.”

“As I suspected. We’ve traced some suspicious activity to this planet,” Xhareen said, attempting to determine if they’d provide some intel, too.

“An underwater lab, by chance?” Theron said. He produced a datapad, one of the larger, Republic models with its own holographic display.

“If those are these coordinates,” Lana began, beaming the information from her pad, “then yes.”

It was indeed, although they could see from the display the complex was huge and had only one access point.

“A heavily guarded access point,” Theron added.

“Theron, can you tell me how you figured out Manaan was involved?” Xhareen asked.

“Will you share the same information?”

“Fine: We learned from an unrelated endeavor that one of our corporate leaders was using false invoices to communicate coordinates with her operatives. One of them worked out to be this same lab.”

“Hmm, that’s excellent investigative work. We just leaned on an aide to a high-ranking Republic officer after he went and got himself into a little financial difficulty,” he said. “Any of your invoices mention a Colonel Darok?”

“Your unfortunate underling say anything about Darth Arkous?” Lana shot back.

“Wait,” Jaesa said, finally relaxing her stance. “I get Darth Arkous being able to stage a raid on Tython. He’s in charge of the entire war effort. But how can a colonel get permission to mount an assault on Korriban _before_ the assault on Tython even happened?”

“He’s in charge of a special ops group,” Theron said. “They were supposed to be on the hunt for Sith artifacts on a deserted planet but that’s been called off now.”

Xhareen let out a sigh of relief. Lana gave her a look. “It’s not important, so let’s move on,” Xhareen said.

“I need to go meet a contact and do a little snooping. If I’m not here in an hour, try the Hovering Hound cantina. If I’m not there, I’m dead and you’re on your own,” Theron said, and excused himself. Gislaran left with him.

Once they were gone, Jaesa enlightened them about Shan’s mysterious past.

“It’s not commonly known, but since my master had been a spy himself for the Jedi, he had access to their dirty secrets. He told me the story as a real-world example of why attachments are bad. Theron’s mother, Satele, was a commander for the Jedi during the Great Galactic War and met and fought with Jace Malcom. Yes, the Jace Malcom. They became involved and Satele got pregnant.

“She told no one except for her master, Ngani Zho. She left baby Theron in his care. Zho tried to raise him as a Jedi but he never developed Force powers strong enough to become a Jedi. So he became a spy instead.

“He’s not close with either parent, though. So it’s probably best to not mention them unless you need to.”

The room fell silent for a few moments.

“Give me family and passion any day,” Lana said.

“Agreed,” Xhareen said. “But it puts our new-found friend in a different light. And I trust the Jedi. Which sounds ludicrous, but I just do.”

Theron and Gislaran returned an hour later, with more details.

“A Sith and a soldier have been seen coming and going from that lab. That’s the good news. The bad news, and by that, I mean the very bad news, is that the lab is guarded by the Order of Shasa. They’re a secret order of Force-sensitive Selkath. They’re not aligned to either side of the Force, and they’re as merciless as Manaan’s justice system.”

Revan had been a practitioner of both the Light and Dark sides of the Force; Xhareen had to admit, that even after all this time, she had been influenced by the Revanites devotion to both Force energies. It had always struck a chord, which was reawakened by the lessons she learned from Nomen Karr as well as Jaesa’s experiences.

“There’s something we need to tell you. We think Arkous might be creating a personal army out of a cult dedicated to a figure named Revan,” Xhareen said.

“Revan?” Theron asked. “Huh. Makes as much sense as anything, I suppose.”

Lana walked over toward Theron and held out her hand, palm first. He stepped back, but then she said, “I have sensed a strange disturbance in the Force. I thought it was tied to Darth Arkous but I sense it in you, too, Theron.”

He put his hands on his hips and stared at the floor for a few seconds. “Revan is an ancestor of mine.”

She withdrew her hand. “That explains something, I guess.”

“But it doesn’t help us get into that lab, Lana,” Xhareen said.

“You’re right, my lord. Back to more practical matters. Is there any easy way to get in, Theron? Something above board, that might fit our cover?” Lana asked.

“I doubt it. If the Order of Shasa are involved, someone’s trying to keep everyone out, not just off-worlders,” Theron said.

Their group couldn’t stand out any more on this world if they tried. They’d have to make plans for a breach, covert or otherwise. It was sure to be a miserable experience, but at least some of the answers to their questions now lay hundreds of feet below the surface.

“Then it’s decided,” Xhareen said. “We take an unscheduled tour of these laboratories.”

**~~~~~**

Theron’s warnings about the Order of Shasa gave her pause, but Xhareen figured between the three Sith, Kayda, HK-51 and Treek and Broonmark, whom she called down from the ship, and their Republic friends, they would be able to prevail in any fight. Vette would stay behind at the bank building to help coordinate.

But she wanted to move about and draw as little attention as possible. She didn’t want to kill any Selkath if she didn’t have to.

The easiest way to do that, Vette and Theron determined, was to take the elevators down below the surface as far as possible on the adjacent platform, then travel through ventilation shafts until they reached their destination.

Broonmark could fit with some difficulty, but there was no way to get HK through the long, narrow passage quietly. She reluctantly ordered him to stay behind at the bank office with Vette.

“If things go nuts, stay out of my way when I start firing, Shiny,” Vette warned him.

They managed to get three-quarters of the way down through the elevator system with codes Vette and Lana accessed. It took almost an hour of crawling to get into an empty storage room in the right lab. Treek had spent the past 15 minutes grumbling, though Broonmark was surprisingly quiet.

“Tunnels endless! I wanted big battles, not to crawl like a wrat, Chief,” she said once they’d all gotten through to the room.

There were two payoffs from this strategy: They did manage to avoid the Shasa guards, and the purified, pressurized air on this level was nearly stink-free.

While Xhareen was taking deep breaths of gratitude, Lana and Theron both had their datapads out, trying to get whatever intel they could. Whoever was running this lab must have been convinced they were protected enough from the outside that their internal data security was a bit lacking.

“Hey, neat!” Theron exclaimed, then blushed. Xhareen secretly wished he wouldn’t do that. She didn’t need any reminders of the one person she wished was at her side.

“What’s neat, Mr. Trinkets?” Vette asked over the comms.

“Trinkets? I’ll remind you, voice in my ear, these are the most sophisticated implantation tech the Republic has to offer.”

“Yeah, like I said. Trinkets. But they are cute. They highlight your bone structure.”

“Alright, you two,” Xhareen intervened. “Theron, what’s so neat?”

“I’ve called up a cam in the next room over. Look.” An image of a medical lab appeared. They could see about three-quarters of the room from that view.

“Those are genetic recombinators,” Kayda said, pointing to a large machine wired to two medical beds. “We use them for surgical reconstructions. But I don’t recognize most of the other machines connected to it.”

“Yes, the power signatures are unlike any I’m familiar with,” Lana said.

“Can we get in?” Xhareen asked.

Theron spun the camera around until the image of two large Selkath appeared.

“Sure, if we can get past those guys.”

Broonmark started to snarl. Xhareen laughed. “I know, Broonmark. You’ve eaten larger eels for lunch.”

Theron started to calculate a route into the room via the nearest ventilation duct.

“Don’t bother,” Xhareen said, looking to Jaesa. “Just open the door.”

The Force users leapt to the doomed Selkath before they could even shout; Broonmark, Treek, Theron and Kayda stood ready should either of them escape; their services were not required. Theron sealed the door and cut off access from the other side.

Xhareen was getting ready to speak when they heard a voice cry out: “We’re rescued!”

~~~~~

It took several minutes to calm the droid, or the parts of a droid, attached to the largest Wookiee any of them had ever seen. He relayed that he was Ceetoo Deefour, former translator for Her Imminence Queen Lina of Onderon, now owned by the Wookiee, a “transport specialist” named Jakarro.

“You mean you’re a smuggler,” Xhareen said.

“Hey!” Jakarro objected. “This was a completely legitimate shipment straight from Pellezara Medical Supply. Made enough to pay my fuel bill for three months!”

Vette’s voice informed them over the comms: “That would be your friendly neighborhood Broysc-owned genetics division.”

“We were hired by a doctor named Gorima to make the delivery,” Deefour said. “But after we made the delivery, we were captured by those two Selkath you just disposed of. They brought us here, where two awful beings interrogated us.”

“A Sith and a Pub Colonel,” Jakarro added. “We had nothing to hide but they ordered us killed anyway.”

“Says here you, Jakarro, were to be executed by experimentation. Any idea what they had planned?” Lana, looking over Theron’s datapad, asked.

“No, and I don’t plan to find out. I just want to get back to my ship and leave this cursed place forever,” he said.

“We’ll get you to this ship if you help us finish this mission,” Xhareen said. “We need to find this Gorima and discover what he’s up to.”

“Gladly. I will crush him with my bare hands if I have to,” Jakarro said.

Xhareen then realized that Broonmark was hovering behind her, growling quietly. “Broonmark, is there going to be a problem?”

“No, but if the Wookiee steps out of line …”

“Enough. I expect both of you to behave. We have enough light sabers here to skin you both, am I understood?”

Both Jakarro and Broonmark grunted. Treek giggled but said nothing.

“Let’s move out, people, we’ve been here too long already,” Theron said.

~~~~~

They were far enough into the laboratory complex that there were no more guards except for a few droids. Vette and Theron managed to shut them down, again using the internal security network.

The party made its way to the heart of the facility: a large laboratory with its own submerged docking bay. A disabled droid hunkered down outside the entry door.

“Theron, can you get a look inside?” Xhareen asked.

He punched a few buttons, then a few more. “No. Whoever runs this place, they seem to have pulled out all the stops to block access to whatever happens inside. Data lockdown like I’ve never seen before. We can, however, open the door and go right in. Apparently, we bypassed the last security checkpoint where we would have needed permission.”

Xhareen did not need to be told twice. She pushed the button and led the group inside.

A lone Selkath stood over an operating table, covered with the motionless body of a large Selkath, larger even than the two guards they killed rescuing their new friends.

“Our benefactors are not here yet, Sith,” the Selkath said. “Though I told them I did not need any assistance delivering the goods to them. They’re completely obedient and they would have gone without any fuss or babysitters.”

“We’re not the babysitters,” Xhareen said. “I’m assuming you’re Gorima?”

Jakarro grunted.

“You will tell us who your benefactors are, then,” Xhareen said.

Gorima stood upright but stayed behind the table. “I am unable to comply with your request. But they will be, rather soon, I should think.”

The Selkath on the table shuddered slightly, as though struck with an electric shock.

“Pity. This would have been a fine specimen. But no matter. There are dozens more just waiting for Darth Arkous and Colonel Darok to retrieve them. My masterpieces. Prototype warriors. Rakata tech. Self-repairing. Immortal, or virtually so. They will make sure you don’t leave this facility to report on what you have witnessed here.

“These are my finest creations, though I admit it took hundreds of failures to get the procedure down. And the occasional failed case, like my unfortunate friend here.”

Jakarro rushed forward, “I’ll rip you apart myself, eel-face!”

Gislaran jumped forward and stopped him. “We need him intact to interrogate,” she said, and the Wookiee stood down.

“I’m more inclined to let Darth Marr do the honors,” Xhareen said.

“I’m inclined to let you,” Gislaran replied, smiling.

“I’m sorry,” Gorima said, hunkering down behind the medical bed. “I just thought it would be fascinating to see if the procedure worked on Wookiees. Can you imagine an immortal Wookiee serving our glorious master Revan?”

Before they could demand more information, the facility shook and a loud noise rang out from the docking bay side of the room. A viewport above the room opened, and Arkous and Darok were standing there, looking peeved.

“So, is this the complication you were worried about, Arkous?” the colonel asked.

“Yes, in a way,” Arkous replied. “Seems my former advisor has brought a few friends. She seems to have convinced them I’m up to no good.”

“Come down here and explain yourself, Arkous,” Xhareen said. “How can you, a Dark Council member, betray the Empire like this? Are you some self-important blowhard like Malgus now?”

At the mention of that name, Arkous glowered. But he composed himself. “How narrow your thinking, Wrath. But your loyalty and your coarse violence were useful on Tython and Korriban at least.”

Theron stepped forward. “Col. Darok, how could you? You had the trust of the Supreme Commander himself.”

Darok laughed. “That’s precisely how. Your father is a fool, Theron Shan. But your friends at least provided us with the technological tools we needed for all of this. And you were too late to stop us here. We already have everything we need.”

“Not everything. We still have Gorima,” Lana said.

“We don’t need him anymore,” Arkous said. “We have his research. And our own facilities somewhere much less odorous than this world.”

With that, he grabbed Gorima with a Force choke and summarily broke the Selkath’s neck before anyone could reach him or launch an attack at Arkous. His body fell lifeless to the floor.

“Farewell, Wrath. Though I regret you cannot become a servant of our new world,” Arkous said, holding up a detonator. He pressed the button and several explosions from nearby locations echoed through the lab.

“Enjoy your last moments of life, friends, courtesy of the best of our Infinite Army. We call him the Aurek Cyborg,” Darok said as the viewport closed.

They could feel the submersible the two men had come in on detach.

“We need to leave, now!” Lana said.

“Wait,” Theron objected. “I might be able to extract the research files. Or something implicating these Revanites … No, blast! Arkous seems to have taken it all and wiped the databanks clean.”

“Then we leave!” Xhareen ordered. “Find us a way out of here.”

Theron and Lana spent a few precious seconds checking their datapads. “Darok and Arkous jettisoned all the escape pods,” Theron said.

“Not to worry, Trinkets,” Vette said. “I’ve slaved one of the pods. It’s coming your way. Docking Bay Seven-dash-Garek. Just to the west of where you are, but there’s a huge energy signature spooling up in the bay itself. Be careful.”

~~~~~

A wave of battledroids greeted them just inside the bay doors. Unlike whatever creatures Gorima was building here, they were not immortal at least. The droids had far more trouble fighting on the increasingly unstable platform; multiple explosions made it clear the facility wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Yeah, we’re sinking. The minute the pressure controls are compromised, we’re toast,” Theron said. “Well, we have like three minutes after that, anyway.”

A rumble that didn’t feel like impending, crushing doom came from a doorway attached to the far side of the bay, near where they needed to go to reach the escape pod.

Before anyone could react, a Selkath at least six meters tall appeared.

“The Aurek Cyborg, I’m guessing,” Lana said. “They left it behind. They must be convinced they can replicate it.”

“Then let’s figure out how to end it,” Xhareen said.

It was an exhausting battle that felt like it took hours. But Vette, after informing them the pressure control room had imploded, provided a handy, if slightly terrified, countdown to the facility’s ultimate demise.

They finished fighting the horrific creature with a minute left to spare and made their way to the escape pod.

Vette was crying over the comms. “Don’t ever do that to me again, Xhareen. You better promise!”

Xhareen started to answer when she realized the weapons cabinet in the sub was opening of its own accord. An armored Selkath emerged. One of Gorima’s creations.

They dispatched him quickly, but not before he sabotaged the nav panel. They were still meters beneath the surface, too many to try to swim on their own.

Theron ran to the controls. “We just need to do this …” he said, as the submersible jetted upward.

But however Theron managed to turn the pod into a projectile, it was too much for the vehicle’s shell. It exploded beneath the surface, though close enough that the bright gray sky made it easy to see the goal. Right before the vehicle split apart, Xhareen shouted to Jaesa, Gislaran and Lana, pointing at their furry companions.

Xhareen grabbed Treek, Jaesa and Gislaran went for Jakarro and Lana and Kayda grabbed Broonmark. They swam, using the Force to haul their companions upward as quickly as possible. Right as they neared the surface, Xhareen could see an extensive underwater structure, including a room nearly covered with viewports. Inside, it looked as though there was a large aquarium with numerous colorful fish swimming inside.

_Someone’s home?_ she thought. She could swear she saw Malavai standing at one of the viewports.

When they made it to the surface, they checked to make sure everyone was OK. Theron was already there to greet them and point at the large structure they had seen on the way up.

Treek was grumbling. Broonmark spat out a fish from his mouth. Deefour, temporarily waterlogged, was quiet. Jakarro laughed. “I should have thought of this sooner!” he said.

They only had to swim a short distance to reach the dock. After they hauled everyone up out of the water, Kayda began to check everyone as best as she could, since all her medical equipment had been in the escape pod.

“Whatever you do, don’t anyone tell Vette what happened to the escape pod,” Xhareen said.

A shuttle landed on the empty plaza in front of them. HK-51 stepped out. “Salvation: I am here, Master!”

As they loaded everyone on, Xhareen took one last look at the stronghold. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m coming back here and buying this place!” she declared.

~~~~~

They reconvened at the bank building, but only long enough to gather anything that might serve as proof they were here. Xhareen contacted her Hutt financier friend to bring in whatever resources he could to continue the bank proposal. They decided to leave the shuttle she’d hired to bring them here and go pick up the Covenant, docked at a Hutt space station of less-than-stellar reputation, in Jakarro’s ship.

“Don’t worry, I’ve made him enough money over the years that he would never betray me. There’s zero profit in it,” she assured Lana.

“Now that’s a story I’d like to hear more of,” Theron said.

“I’m happy to tell it, but we have to find somewhere safe. With Darth Arkous onto us, my team can’t risk heading back to Dromund Kaas, and I’m sure you two would prefer a friendlier venue.”

Vette cleared her throat. “I think I might be of assistance there. As long as you don’t mind holing up with some Twi’lek thieves.”


	75. I Do Like Saying Tatooine

Not every corner of the desert planet was claimed by the Empire or Republic. There were wide swaths given over to barely contained anarchy. People who had no desire to be claimed by either faction, especially during wartime, gravitated to the empty warehouses, strongholds and abandoned production facilities that littered the habitable zone.  

Civilization always managed to exist on this planet, but over time it wasn’t just the climate that restricted where people could live. Survival also meant staying away from the Sand People and outside of the turf claimed by the criminal enterprises.

Whether by canny planning or sheer accident, Vette’s old Twi’lek relic recovery crew found a perfect hideaway, outside the purview of the Republic or Empire, and just far enough from any gang territory to remain safe – but also to avail themselves of their services as needed.

“Umph, I do not like Tatooine,” Theron said as they disembarked from the shuttle outside the abandoned factory building the thieves had claimed. “But I do like saying Tatooine.”

“Yeah? We’ll see how much you like even saying it after a few weeks,” Gislaran said.

“The good news is, no matter how long we have to stay here, we’ll be safe. And thanks to yours truly, we have completely secure communications for taking care of business,” Vette said.

“And what will we owe your friends for their hospitality?” Xhareen asked.

“Ha, ha, busted,” Jaesa said, poking Vette in the shoulder.

Vette shrugged. “OK, OK, I might have mentioned if we find anything interesting, you’d give it to them in trade. You know, not anything that’s part of this investigation, unless it’s Twi’lek in origin.”

“Sounds fair, Vette. But you knew I would approve,” Xhareen said.

“I was counting on it,” Vette said, skipping ahead of the group into the entryway.

The three Twi’leks Xhareen remembered meeting on Nar Shaddaa – Taunt, Flash and Plasmajack – were there to greet them, along with two new recruits, Dagger and Driveshaft. As near as Xhareen could tell, they were twins and rarely left each other’s sight.

“There’s someone else you need to meet, too, Vette. He’s our biggest treasure haul to date,” Taunt said, as she escorted the newcomers to an area below ground where everyone bunked. “He tends to stay down here, since he has a significant bounty on his head.”

Gislaran gasped when a tall, slightly overweight Twi’lek man, with reddish-orange skin and older than the rest of the crew, emerged from one of the rooms.

“Uncle Vannos?” she said.

“Gizzy!” he greeted her.

She ran to him and they hugged. “Imagine finding you here! It’s been six months since I heard from you,” she said.

Taunt was dumbfounded. “Vannos Krie is your kin?”

“He’s the reason I’m merely a battlemaster, and I wouldn’t change a thing because of it,” Gislaran said, hugging him again.

“My niece is too humble. She helped us free a thousand slaves from the Hutts, if not more,” he said.

“Huh,” Theron, who had moved up behind Xhareen, said softly.

Xhareen stepped forward, her hand extended. “Vannos Krie, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Vannos had been the one to raise Gislaran after her parents were taken by slavers when she was barely walking, leaving Ryloth behind for the safety of Hosnian Prime. When her Force abilities manifested with a bang at age 6, he agreed to let her train with the Jedi. But he surreptitiously kept in touch with her over the years, and she remained a tireless opponent of the slavers whose influence in the Republic could never be eradicated.

“I’m afraid I was less than truthful earlier, Xhareen,” she explained. “I don’t use a clan name so no one connects me to Vannos.”

Xhareen put a hand on the Jedi’s shoulder. “I understand. It’s fine. You did the right thing. Your secret is safe with me. Someday, maybe I can share with you how I feel about slavery, and the importance of family.”

“Speaking of which,” Vette said, “I’m off to contact Tivva. Maybe Moff Boyfriend Material has some information we can use.”

“And I should contact Malavai,” Xhareen added.

~~~~~

Quinn answered the call with a huge grin on his face.

“I never got you a wedding gift, but I have one for you now, my love,” he said.

“You know I said I didn’t need one,” she shot back.

He smiled again. “Check your datapad.”

She pulled the pad from its clip on her belt. A message opened itself. As she read it, she started to smile as broadly as he was.

“That’s a brilliant gift, Malavai. I don’t know what to say!”

“I was hoping you’d approve. It still will take some time, give or take three weeks, I would estimate,” he said.

“Not a moment too soon. Just keep me apprised,” she said.

“Yes, my lord … and my wife,” he said, bowing deeply and sincerely.

~~~~~

Lana and Theron got right to work on digging into Arkous and Darok’s history to see if they overlooked any useful intel. After getting Tivva on the hunt, Vette contacted Zavaa to see if the Black Codex could be of any assistance.

Within six hours, Lana and Theron had a short list of other suspected Revanites. Once again, Nerida Broysc’s name came up. But this was all predictive algorithms; nothing concrete had been found that could be presented as evidence. Even Jakarro had noted that the shipment he transported was completely legitimate at the point of sale.

“I’m not saying to refocus the investigation, but I wouldn’t be upset to hear you spent a little extra time on the Broysc connection,” Xhareen said.

Tivva, calling in from Ord Radama, came through first: Seems that Nerida contacted a colonel to oversee a “special transport mission.” He contacted her boyfriend’s adjutant, a distant relative, to lend him some troops to guard “this spooky artifact I’m carrying” and mentioned that he was bound for the Unknown Regions.

“Ce’na, they’re heading to Rakata Prime. That’s all I know,” Tivva said.

“I think we can start to piece things together, my lord,” Lana said. “We know Arkous and Darok are working together with the Revanites. They have acquired Jedi and Sith artifacts along with Rakatan technology, although we don’t know what or how much.”

“I’ve done a little digging into Revan and the Rakata connection,” Theron said. “Seemed appropriate at least. There’s this thing called an Infinite Engine, allegedly can make matter out of almost nothing. Part of it was found on Nar Shaddaa, taken by your Imperial Reclamation Service from a Sith contact. Chiss male. Don’t have a name.”

Xhareen sat down on a stool in front of the holocommunicator. “I do. Give me 10 minutes alone and I hope to have at least more information, if not more bodies to help us.”

~~~~~

Releah and Myroli arrived four days later. Myroli brought her archaeologist, Talos Drellik, a surly creature she called Khem Val (Lana later told her he was of a race known as the Dashade), and Andronikos. Releah showed up with a Togruta with a light saber, although she didn’t dress like a Jedi or a Sith. Xhareen figured this was his girlfriend the ex-Jedi who supposedly was here on Tatooine at the time.

Xhareen asked Lana to join her and her two old friends to lay out what they knew.

Releah and Myroli described what they had learned on their various missions for the past year, and where the trail was leading them. Myroli explained her strange encounter with a Rakatan and the Mother Machine on Belsavis.  

Lana excused herself. “I’ll let you all catch up and debrief Theron.”

“At least now we can go with sufficient backup,” Myroli said.

“We think it’s much more sinister than an artifact hunt, Myroli,” Xhareen explained. “We don’t have the tangible proof we need, but we think Arkous and Darok are repurposing the Revanites for some kind of rebellion.”

“Great,” Myroli said. “Just what the Empire needs. Another savior.”

“I know. I’ve had my fill of them as well,” Xhareen said.

“That might explain why Darok sent an underling to Ilum and Arkous was headed for Khar Delba,” Releah added.

“So that’s what you were doing on Ilum?” Xhareen asked.

He nodded. “I was keeping an eye on Darok. I wasn’t just checking up on you, dove.”

“For your information, I’m married again. You missed your shot,” she teased.

“That’s good to hear, Xhareen. Truly. I genuinely like your Major,” he said.

“Confess, you find him hot.”

“Yes, he certainly is my type and I won’t lie, I’ve had a stray thought about getting to know the two of you better.”

“I’m almost jealous,” Myroli said. They all laughed, but the mood turned serious again.

“But all joking aside, Releah, what about Ashara?” Xhareen asked.

“We’re not together anymore, at least, not sharing a bed. We’re in a strange place, Xhareen. We care about each other, and she can’t go back to the Jedi, but she doesn’t want to be Sith. Oddly enough, she’s taken to Myroli, who asks nothing of her except to not stab her in the back. Says she feels a connection to her somehow. Myroli knows, but she’s not saying.”

“And neither of you is getting it out of me. I promised Ashara. If the information becomes useful, it’s up to her to decide how and whether to use it.” Myroli turned away.

Xhareen went to her and hugged Myroli first, and then Releah came in and put his arms around them both.

“Do you think Darth Neveris ever thought the three of us would be the ones to save the galaxy?” he asked, with all sincerity.

Xhareen thought about Quinn’s budding belief in an afterlife, at least for Force users. Maybe this Ashara could tell her more about the Jedi teachings. Because it would be nice of the Force to let her see Darth Neveris and Lord Gamheen again.

They just had to actually save the galaxy first, or that reunion might be sooner than any of them wanted.

~~~~~

Releah and Myroli and their crew would stay on Tatooine. There was some connection here that Ashara had been investigating involving Czerka Corp and the Rakata. She’d found an abandoned warehouse full of nearly skeletal remains but little information. Lana thought it bore further scrutiny.

Xhareen and her team would head to Rakata Prime. Theron and Lana agreed to travel with Jakarro and Deefour, mostly to help Jakarro work on repairs. They had no idea what they would face on Rakata Prime, but everyone silently agreed that two ships would probably not be enough.


	76. All Roads Lead To Lehon

One of the supreme ironies of the galaxy is that sentient beings always found the most horrible places to live: overpopulated, lifeless husks like Nar Shaddaa and Coruscant; desiccated rocks like Tatooine or Jakku; and as just recently experienced, waterlogged hells like Manaan. Even 70% of the population of Dromund Kaas crammed themselves into the megasprawl of Kaas City, when other continents and better weather could be found elsewhere on the giant Imperial homeworld.

Why none of them bothered to re-colonize Lehon, also called Rakata Prime, Xhareen might never figure out. It was the most beautiful place she had ever experienced. Lush vegetation without the smothering humidity that tormented Dromund Kaas. Beaches limned in sand of every possible color. Fauna in riotous colors even an artist with an infinite paint kit couldn’t do justice to.

Jakarro had stayed on his ship with Deefour, giving them a moment of supreme silence in which to take it all in. It was a shame Quinn wasn’t here; this would have been a far better place to have a honeymoon than Manaan.

Vette reluctantly agreed to stay with Xhareen’s ship, and provide data support if needed. She parked the ship close to Jakarro’s in a clearing away from the direction the team was heading.

They found little resistance on their way to the landmark Theron had identified as the Temple of the Ancients, the place where Revan had found a way to destroy the Star Forge, or at least, that’s what Xhareen thought Theron was trying to say. He spun a long-winded tale that seemed more preposterous than the silliest adventure holodrama, convinced every word of it was true.

But Releah and Myroli confirmed it all as true via holo.

“Unfortunately, we have never been allowed to view the piece of the Infinite Engine that the Empire recovered from me on Nar Shaddaa,” Releah said. “I can only say, I was exposed to it for no more than an hour, and I never felt more powerful in all my life, Xhareen.”

“What if it’s fallen into the wrong hands? What if some of those high-ranking Imperials or a stray Sith got a hold of it, gave it back to the Revanites?” Xhareen asked.

“That might explain why the Revanites have been so willing to move on every time we’ve thwarted them,” Theron said. “Every other road led to Lehon.”

When they got within sight of the Temple, they all stopped. They were still at least five kilometers away, and yet, after rounding a corner of a wooded trail, it nearly dominated their view.

“You could take everything the Empire’s done, and stack it on top of everything the Republic has accomplished, and we would still be small compared to the Rakatans,” Theron said.

“And now the Revanites have that tech,” Lana said.

“So let’s go take it from them,” Xhareen replied, leading the way.

~~~~~

On their trek to the temple, they encountered, and quickly dispatched, several scouts and a team of three Jedi. Gislaran did not want to kill the Jedi, but two of them left no choice. Xhareen let her take the third one aside and question him.

But he expressed nothing but contempt for the Jedi, for the Republic, the Sith and especially for Gislaran. “You call yourself Jedi, but even you, with your fancy title, see the necessity of going against the sterile teachings of the Order to fight for and defend the helpless. We have a better way, Battlemaster. The Force is honored in its purest form, neither Dark nor Light. Through Revan, all are made free.”

Gislaran drew her mainhand saber on him, then put it away and stalked off. Theron followed her. Xhareen nodded at Kayda, who went to the man and gave him a stim, then gently guided his sleeping body to the ground.

“Release his cuffs. I’m assuming he’ll be out for a while?” Xhareen asked.

“At least 10 hours. I’m hoping we’re long gone by then,” Kayda replied.

They waited for a few minutes, glad for the rest. Theron and Gislaran came back into the clearing.

“I’m good,” she said. “Let’s end this nonsense.”

It took another hour to slog through the brush to get to the temple area. They tried to avoid the pathways and clearings, although they had no guarantee their presence was not now known. But they encountered no resistance except for occasionally heavy underbrush and one angry veractyl.

When they got to the clearing, they came hard upon a group of soldiers, most of whom looked to be Mandalorians, who gave them a good fight. But while they seemed more than adequate against Theron, Broonmark, Treek and HK, they had no training against Force users. Xhareen led the main line and kept them busy enough that Treek and HK picked off half of them, with Broonmark and Theron dispatching the strays. Kayda stayed in cover, providing armor support and the occasional volley of blaster fire.

“They know we’re here now,” Theron said, as Kayda tended a slight wound on his hand.

They met no more resistance making the long climb up the stairs to the temple’s entrance. Inside, however, they struggled with another group of Jedi. This time, Gislaran said nothing, launching herself fully into the fight, downing her opponents without a second thought.

The entry and the antechamber were not damaged much by the fighting, but they had been savaged by time, no doubt, and by the unmistakable signs that hundreds of people had been camping inside here.

The fires were cold, however. Whoever had been here … they had left weeks ago. Supplies, including food packs, had been abandoned, inviting small critters to pick over the leavings.

“Wherever they went, they were convinced they wouldn’t be lacking in food,” Lana said.

“So all roads don’t lead here,” Xhareen said. “This is yet another waystation on their journey.”

“My scanners say there’s a room, two floors above, still has active power flowing to it,” Theron said.

They made their way, up a long ramp, then another grand staircase. The landing was empty, so they stopped to get their bearings. They weren’t even a tenth of the way to the top of the structure, which Lana and Theron had been mapping as they went.

“Most of the top of the temple is a power generator,” Lana said. “I’d bet anything they have the Infinite Engine piece, given these readings.”

“Why would the Empire let them take it? Even by Force?” Xhareen asked. “Who would be stupid or bold enough to give it to them, or to take it from them?”

“That would be me, Lord Wrath,” a voice said as it emerged from the shadows.

“Rathari. Eddon. You’re one of them?” Xhareen didn’t bother trying to hide her shock, although she already had her lightsabers out and attack ready.

Rathari bowed, rather than meet her challenge. “My lord, I am no match for you, or your companions, especially not one as esteemed as Lord Beniko.”

Xhareen did not relax, and the others had their blades lit and other weapons raised. “Then what do you want, Rathari? I thought you were undercover. I thought you were still loyal.”

“I would rather die than disappoint you, Lord Wrath. I admired you, greatly. I could have loved you, but then I saw you were taken by another. It was no matter. I found all I need in Revan.”

“No, Eddon. This is not the way. Not a cult, based on some dead …”

He raised his hand and Broonmark moved up next to Xhareen, snarling. She did nothing to calm him.

“You misunderstand, my lord. Revan isn’t dead. He leads us. He will lead the entire galaxy to peace.”

Xhareen felt her heart fall into her stomach. She was glad they hadn’t stopped to eat because she might have lost whatever was in her stomach, right here, in front of everyone. Suddenly the planet lost all its glamour. Suddenly, it had become a death pit, a grave for a friend.

He’d come out of hiding, at great personal risk, to see her ascension. To watch her take out Baras. To …

“Where is Tremel? Please, for the love of the stars, tell me he is not one of you.”

Rathari shook his head. “No, he chose not to follow our ways. But you will see him again, of that I am certain.”

“But you will not, Eddon. You know I cannot let you leave here. And I cannot let you live.”

He bowed again. “I would be honored if you would fight me in single combat. I am far better than I was on Nar Shaddaa, when all I had to guide me was my hate and my rage. You turned me away from that, showed me there was another way. You are as different from the Sith as I am, Lord Xhareen. I merely followed your example to its logical conclusion. An end to eternal warfare, an end to Jedi vs. Sith. A way for the galaxy to be whole.”

Xhareen had to admit, if he were speaking the truth, it was compelling. She and Jaesa had seen it; Nomen Karr had seen it; there were more than two ways to access the Force. It was not about to be shunted into two small boxes. Its power was immense. And what if Rathari was right? What if Tari Darkspanner was right? What if they had found another way, a viable way? A way for the Empire and the Republic, and their enforcers, to co-exist. Here she was, in pursuit of a common enemy, with Republic agents, with a Jedi by her side, and another on Tatooine, equally committed to fighting with the Sith to end this threat?

She took a breath, and recited her litany in her mind to quiet it.

“Tell me where Arkous and Darok are, Rathari, and I will spare you. I won’t take you back to the Empire. You can go wherever you want, as long as you promise to stay out of Imperial space. Just like we left it after Nar Shaddaa.”

“I cannot,” he said, drawing his light saber and igniting it. “It’s happening. I have served my purpose. Now is my time.”

Xhareen struck before he could raise his blade in self-defense. Her dual strike tore through his chest and he fell to the ground within seconds of her landing the blows.

She stilled her blades.

“My lord, should we …” Lana began.

“Let his body rot, Lana. Let the vermin have him, let his bones become dust on this forsaken world.”

No one said anything. They just followed Theron as he headed for whatever was waiting for them above.

~~~~~

They all noticed the smell around the same time, a nauseating mixture of dust, decomposition and an unknown power source. An enormous open space was filled with canisters, each of them containing a body, heavily encrusted with cybernetics.

Theron found the control room, and he and Lana went to see if it was operational. The rest of the team took up positions between the canisters and the entryway behind them.

Lana came out a few minutes later, and motioned for Xhareen to come speak to her in private.

“It looks as though the Revanites were here, clearly, and they had hoped to power up the facility here to begin producing their super soldiers that Gorima built for them.

“Except after starting the process, they tapped out their small bit of the Infinite Engine. They started pumping geothermal energy from the planet's core into the facility but it wasn't enough. They might have made a few dozen, that’s it.”

“So they fled? Where, and to do what, lick their wounds?”

“No, much worse. They clearly refined the process to the point that, with sufficient power resources, they can create their super soldiers, albeit at a slower pace than pure Rakata tech would have allowed. The soldiers will be as Gorima bragged: nearly immortal, although completely under control, like machines.”

“What an awful tradeoff,” Xhareen said. Had Rathari been promised to be turned into one of them, she wondered, then dismissed the thought as worse than what had just happened.

“The Rakata tech here is useless. Whoever was here, they clearly took all the working parts with them and cleared 95% of the databases,” Lana continued. “With one exception: They left these incomplete super soldiers behind. We could take them for the Empire, in case our scientists can reverse engineer Gorima’s advances …”

“Lana, I’m going to stop you right there. Nobody needs immortal, mindless super soldiers. We get them, the Republic steals one, or Theron gives them the data he’s up there copying and we wind up where we are now, eternal stalemate. I won’t be a part of it and I won’t let you be, either.”

Lana bowed her head. “As you wish, my lord.”

Xhareen signaled to the rest of the team. “Each of you, take one of these cylinders and destroy it, and its contents. Leave nothing behind, am I clear?”

Theron came down when the destruction was complete. “Good,” he said. “I was hoping you wouldn’t order us to take home any souvenirs.”

Before they could decide where to go next, the entire building shook. Vette’s voice came in over the comms: “You guys got company. Up on the roof of the section of building where you are now. It’s a Sith shuttle, probably Darth Arsehole’s.”

They headed for the roof. There was a coliseum of some sort above them, Vette said, ancient and falling to pieces, but a big open surface and very little cover to be had.

“We need to take them alive,” Theron said as they rode to the top of the building in an ancient elevator. “Bring them in for questioning.”

“Agreed,” Xhareen said. “But I doubt they’ll welcome the invitation.”

“You’ll just have to be very persuasive then,” he said.

But Arkous and Darok were not in the mood for tea. They met the party with a barrage from an assault cannon wielded by Darok and Arkous jumped on Xhareen right as she got her light saber up. Xhareen and Arkous broke off from the rest, fighting one on one.

For his age, Arkous was a formidable foe. “I see you’ve become practiced in using more than just rage and hatred to fuel your fighting skills, Lord Wrath,” he said. “It won’t be enough. I have the strength of Revan to sustain me.”

She refrained from engaging him in conversation, preferring to marshal her energy instead. With the edges of her Force sight, she could see the others falling into place to fight off Darok, who did an astounding job of preventing from flanking him.

But as had happened on Tython, he underestimated Treek and HK, who managed to gain a superior position. A volley of blasts, and Darok’s armor was taken out. Jakarro leapt over him, striking him with a vibroblade. Broonmark struck next, taking the cannon out of his hands.

Treek took him out with a headshot.

Arkous began to scream, “Darok! No!” in such pain that Xhareen suddenly realized they were more than co-conspirators.

She took advantage, striking him across the forearm, taking his hand and knocking his light saber with it to the ground.

He fell to his knees in pain. She called for Kayda, who administered a pain stim.

“Save your poison, Wrath,” he spat. “You may have defeated us, but you will never defeat what we stand for. Revan is poised to return. He has contingencies. We are just puzzle pieces. It’s happening, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. We have served our purpose.”

Before she could react, he took out a small vibrodagger and plunged it into his heart. Kayda quickly ran to him, but it was too late.

Lana came over to them. “I felt his passing, but I feel something much worse. That writing mass. It wasn’t him. It’s everywhere and nowhere now.”

Vette came over the comms. “Hey, we got some Imperial ships just dropping out of hyperspace above us. You want I should blast them out of the sky?”

“Just stay out of sight, Vette. You and Jakarro get the engines ready. Come get us.”

But she regretted giving the order immediately, as the sky above them filled with ships – not just Imperial vessels, but Republic and civilian ships, too. The biggest one was, however, an Imperial dreadnought.

A masked and robed image appeared, improbably, in the sky above their heads. It began to speak.

“Arkous and Darok were valuable allies in my cause, but their deaths will not delay what is coming.”

 “I know that voice,” Theron said.

“It’s Revan. It’s _the_ Revan,” Lana said.

“Shit,” Gislaran said. “We freed him from Imperial prison. He was said to be too weak to even stand, and not expected to live. He was 300 years old, after all. I had no idea …”

“How could anyone, Gislaran?” Xhareen said.

“You think you have won today. But you are only an inconvenience. My infinite army could have achieved so much, but I still have other weapons in my arsenal.

“You, Sith, your Emperor could not break me, even death could not stop me. I will finish what I started. And you will not interfere again.”

 “Why don’t you leave that ship and come down here and face us?” Xhareen yelled.

“You have thwarted me at every turn, Sith. You, and that Jedi … you both bear his stench. My plans to pacify the galaxy first will have to be put on hold. You have forced my hand. You will not survive this, even if you manage to escape this planet.”

Nothing could have prepared them for the bombardment that followed. Everyone stuck to Xhareen, and they made it to the edge of the coliseum grounds, where the roof had become an open grassland for several hundred meters around the upper temple.

As Vette had warned, there wasn’t much cover to be had, and certainly not from a space-borne fleet.

But just as Xhareen was contemplating jumping over the side of the structure and letting the Force decide her fate, a small group of ships began to pick off the smaller Revanite vessels.

And an Imperial troop ship dropped from the sky onto the open ground. The group stopped, and got into defensive formation.

The hatch to the transport opened, and the gangplank deployed. An Imperial officer came into view.

“My lord, do you need a ride?”

It was Quinn.

Xhareen ran for the ship, and everyone on the ground followed.

“Your timing is impeccable, as always, Major.”

He bowed. “And your battalion is at the ready, my darling. I hope you enjoy your wedding gift.”

She kissed him, as the door closed and the ship took off.

“What the kriff? That’s Quinn?” Vette shouted into her ear.

“Give us your coordinates, Vette,” Xhareen said. “You can yell at him in person while we’re jetting out of here.”

 


	77. A Good Imperial, Loyal And Brave

By the time they dropped out of hyperspace for the third course change, the news of Arkous and Darok’s deaths had become public. Lana had a “kill on sight” order reserved for assassins, and traitors and defectors during wartime. The Dark Council declared her all three. Chancellor Saresh personally disavowed Theron on behalf of the SIS. Jakarro had one of the highest bounties ever recorded on his head.

Of course, the Empire made no mention of Arkous’s complicity with Darok, and the Republic returned the favor. The two Revanite leaders must have had contingencies in place for their deaths to be reported with scapegoats and disinformation ready to go.

It hit Lana hardest, however. Arkous had not been a cruel master; he had treated her with the respect due to the only child of an esteemed overseer at the Sith Academy. She knew she had never been his only apprentice or confidante; but she’d been betrayed long before she even realized it, and that was not reassuring.

Now, she was charged with his murder, even though she hadn’t even raised one strike against him. Xhareen had fought him to his knees and he had taken his own life.

“Though I’m happy for once not to be included at the party, I’m concerned as to why I was left out,” Xhareen said to Lana, once she had recovered somewhat from the news.

“All I can think is that Arkous and Darok had this planned, to blame Theron and I for their deaths, or for something. Jakarro became a convenient addition as a known criminal element,” Lana said. “Arkous must have still thought you dead on Manaan.”

It wasn’t comforting at all, but it made sense. It would have to do.

Lana asked to be taken back to Manaan; the bank building cover was still intact and she, Theron and Jakarro could hide out for as long as they needed to plan their next move. They decided to create a fake holo showing the two of them conspiring to kill Arkous for the Empire. Theron decided Saresh’s stamp on his disavowal wouldn’t be questioned, but knowing the fractious nature of the Dark Council, more evidence would be safest.

Quinn, too, was disturbed by the events and the extent to which the conspiracy had spread throughout the Empire.

“If they can get to a Dark Council member, they can get to anyone,” he said.

“No, they’ll never get us,” she replied, hoping to encourage him.

“Let’s just hope we can get them before they get anyone else.”

The rest of them – including the 473 troops of Quinn’s new strike force – headed back to Tatooine. Xhareen rode in Quinn’s command ship with him, enjoying at least a few hours of alone time every night in his small but comfortable cabin. Vette and Jaesa stayed with the Covenant, although Vette made Quinn and Xhareen check in with her at least once a day.

When they arrived at the Tatooine stronghold, there were three more surprise visitors: Zavaa, Vector and SCORPIO.

“How can we help?” were the first words Zavaa said to her.

“We need actionable evidence, particularly now that Lana’s been blamed for Arkous’s death,” Xhareen answered. “I know if I took this to Darth Marr, he’d believe me, but he has other council members and rivals he has to contend with, who won’t be so easily swayed. And we don’t know if Arkous had turned any other Sith leaders, either.”

“You should probably bring in your friend Nerida Broysc. You have her on the treason charge, even without the Revanite connection.”

Zavaa was right. It was time to deal with Nerida Broysc.

“Zavaa, are you comfortable setting up your operations here?”

“As comfortable as a former cipher agent can be, anyway. But I trust the crew here. Taunt has said we could have one of their unused back rooms to set up in, no questions asked, and with SCORPIO around, I’m certain everyone else will comply.”

She put it off as long as possible, but as the hours ticked away on their first full day on Tatooine, she had to confront her next task.

She caught Quinn off guard during a meal. She grabbed some food and sat down with him in a back corner in the mess area after everyone else had finished.

“Malavai, I have to return to Dromund Kaas. I have to inform Darth Marr about Nerida Broysc.”

He put his fried mystery meat patty down, then stared at it. “I suppose that means you will be taking her head.”

“That’s the punishment for treason against the Sith.”

“I really did kill her father. Are you going to tell her that, confirm her revenge was on point all the time?”

Xhareen hadn’t realized that Quinn felt even a twinge of remorse or sympathy for the family he’d left without their father.

“If it is to our advantage, yes. You know how I feel about the moff. And I have no sympathy for that woman, Quinn. She had your troops murdered as collateral damage at the hands of a sick, dangerous assassin. Her brother is convinced she would have blamed you regardless of who had actually killed the old man.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing at the time.”

She reached her hand over and held his for a moment. “It is still the right thing. Think about the lives you saved.”

He nodded, though not convincingly.  

“I didn’t realize you were having doubts about it, darling.”

“Only occasional ones. I’m worried about what might happen to you, and my troops, if this ever got out.”

She hugged him. “I will return shortly, my love,” she said.

 

~~~~~

**_Dromund Kaas_ **

The official report to the Dark Council indicated that Xhareen and Quinn had been in pursuit of the traitor, Lana Beniko, for some time. They attempted to rescue Darth Arkous, and apprehend her, but were too late. Arkous was also credited for the “heroic” killing of Colonel Darok.

The council accepted the story, although there were a few snickers about “the Mighty Wrath having met her match” that Xhareen had to suck up and ignore, mostly from Darth Mortis, who persisted in his anti-alien posturing whenever possible. A commendation was issued to Col. Ovech for his foresight in releasing Quinn’s unit to Xhareen’s service.

Darth Marr -- as always, the canny observer -- pulled her aside after she made her presentation to discuss other wartime matters. “There’s more to this than you’re letting on, isn’t there, Lord Wrath?” he asked.

She nodded and took a drink of the blood wine he offered.

“But I can’t say right now, my lord. Even I’m not sure what all is transpiring.”

“And Arkous?”

“Let’s let him rest a hero for as long as we can, shall we?” She knew he’d catch her meaning.

“Agreed. But I want to be the first to know when you have worked this out.”

“You will be. You have my word.”

“There’s more, Darth Marr. You might want to order another bottle of wine.”

She told him the whole story of Nerida Broysc, including the truth about who had taken out the moff. “I doubt at this point anyone would care. That we won Nelriss back from the Republic within days of his death, that alone would absolve anyone of his death,” he said when she was done.

“I’m sure no one will argue if I claim my right as Wrath to carry out the sentence,” Xhareen said.

“Is this Imperial duty or familial revenge, Wrath?” Darth Marr asked.

“There is no difference,” she replied.

“So be it. I’ll sign the bill of indictment myself.”

~~~~~

Xhareen had Vette warn Tolliver. She and Jaesa would go to the Broysc estate to carry out the sentence. They had the Covenant’s fabricators make them imposing Sith robes with Xhareen’s claimed blue and gold symbol on the trip from Tatooine, which they donned now.

The estate lay at the northern edge of the Niemarck district, more than an hour’s flight from the Imperial core. The main house was at least twice the size of Xhareen’s home, and there were seven outbuildings she could see from the taxi; the land stretched well past the horizon.

Tolliver met them at the estate’s front gate. A ground conveyance took them to the house.

He had already seen to restraining his sister. She was outside in the back, on a tiled patio. She had already been gagged, as well. Two family security guards stood by with stun blades. Xhareen couldn’t help but think this was a place that would be easy to clean up after.

Nerida knelt on the ground as Xhareen exited the house, prompted by a sharp poke from one of the guards. Clearly, she was not a beloved employer.

“Nerida Broysc,” Xhareen said, not wasting any time with niceties. “You have been found guilty of high treason against the Empire. Namely, you interfered in military and Sith communications during wartime. You murdered a military officer and placed a spy in a unit on covert business. Your actions resulted in the deaths of military officers and the destruction of Imperial property. The evidence is clear and uncontestable. Your sentence is death and it is to be carried out immediately.

“If you do not submit willingly, you will be sedated and the sentence carried out regardless. However, I am empowered to reduce your sentence to life in prison off planet if you name your co-conspirators in this Revanite business.”

One of the guards removed her gag.

“Eat bantha shit, Sith,” she spat. “I’ll cut my own head off first.”

“Just because we are letting your brother off the hook now does not mean he is guaranteed to escape punishment. The Empire is just as happy with taking over Peralta Industrials as letting him continue to run it. He persists only because I will it.”

She didn’t even take a second to consider that. “You murdered my father. You and your weasel of an Imperial lover.”

“No, pirates killed your father, Nerida. You know what he was mixed up in.”

“That’s lies. All lies. My father was a moff. A powerful man. A good Imperial, loyal and brave.”

“Your father was found lying in the arms of three prostitutes on Nar Shaddaa while the campaign on Nelriss faltered. Once he was gone, the Empire prevailed.”

She spat again. “So how would you know if pirates killed him?”

“Because they didn’t. I won’t apologize, Nerida. I ordered his death. He was a danger to himself and trillions of Imperial citizens. He threatened our very existence. And you’ll notice, no one could even be bothered to investigate once he was gone.”

She felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman. Though that was probably due to Quinn. And her job was clear.

“Fine. Enough chatter. Nerida, do you submit to your punishment?”

Nerida began to laugh hysterically. “Fuck off and die, Sith,” she said when she had recovered. “I hope you are brought low as your punishment, because losing your child simply wasn’t enough.”

Xhareen lit her light saber and pointed it close to Nerida’s face. “What does that mean?”

More laughter. “I staged that uprising in Coronet City and paid those Jedi to attack you. You were supposed to die for your hubris but the outcome was far, far better because both you and Quinn suffered.”

Xhareen backhanded her across the face with her free hand. “You murdered a child. My child. A Sith child. I agreed with Darth Marr to keep your death secret. It was to be announced that you died of heart failure in your sleep.

“But instead, there will be a scandal. A small one, and your longsuffering but far more loyal and intelligent brother will be saddled with the task of cleaning up your mess,” Xhareen said.

“Wait, my lord!” Tolliver cried out. “That’s not what we agreed to!

She pointed her saber at him. “We agreed to nothing, worm. You will do as you are told. The Empire needs your businesses, otherwise you’d be kneeling next to your disgrace of a sister.”

He started to shake. He grabbed his sister by her shoulders. “Nerida, I know you’re involved in some kind of conspiracy to bring down the Empire and I will not allow that. Maybe you won’t tell me anything, but I guarantee, the longer it takes me to unravel your mess, the worse it will be for Peralta, are we clear?”

Nerida said nothing. Tolliver stood back up. “Sister, please?” he said, inching backward.

“You think you’re so smart, dear brother, you’ll figure it out. Now shut up and …”

Xhareen removed her head before she could finish the sentence.

She turned to Tolliver, and watched as the front of his trousers turned dark with piss.

Xhareen nodded to the guards to clean up the mess. She took Tolliver by the arm and pulled him back toward the house.

“Clean yourself up, Tolliver. You’re going to hold a holoconference with your board to announce the death of your sister due to a heart attack and then discuss succession planning.”

 

 

 

 


	78. A Lot of What is Known is Not True

 

A week went by, then two, and still no word from Lana or Theron. Quinn and Xhareen decided it was best to get back to the Empire and live as though nothing special was going on. To get back to the life they kept trying to have together.

Zavaa and Vector decided to remain on Tatooine and aid the investigation there. Myroli and Releah and their teams would stay, too. They’d even begun to form a working alliance with Gislaran and Scourge, much to everyone’s surprise.

Though Xhareen wanted him to stay on Dromund Kaas, Quinn felt pressed to take his troops back to Ziost and continue training. So, she reluctantly left Jaesa and Vette to watch over the estate and she followed Quinn to his posting on Ziost.

Ziost had overdeveloped areas, particularly around New Adasta, but many of the military facilities moved out toward the forest lands, where the scenery and milder climate made for an almost-vacation-like stay. Quinn’s strike force took up billeting at the 50th Army’s facility about a hundred kilometers from the city’s core.

It was nice and wild enough that Xhareen sent for Broonmark, Treek and HK-51. The droid was sent out to serve as Quinn’s bodyguard when the troops went on maneuvers, though Xhareen hoped some of the training and discipline might rub off on him. She had no such delusions about Broonmark and Treek, who were now the most unlikely of friends, so she took them out hunting with her almost every day.

And almost every night, she had Quinn by her side in bed.

After four weeks of marital bliss, Quinn posed a question that shook her: “Do you think maybe – and no pressure, my dear, really – but maybe could we, or should we, try again to have another baby?”

“I want nothing more than that, Malavai, truly …” she began.

“But. There’s a but, isn’t there?”

She could sense his disappointment even without looking at him.

“So much isn’t settled, yet. We have had no word on the Revan business. I have no idea where I stand as the Wrath. I haven’t heard from the Hand since one cryptic email on Ilum. Revan wanted to kill the Emperor and my fear is that he’s going to try, which means killing many Imperials. In a galaxy like that, how can I bring a child into it?” She started to sob and Malavai took her into his arms.

“You’re right, darling. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She rubbed her hand over his chest hair. “You’re my husband and these are the conversations we should be having. I’m not upset at you. I’m just … lost, I guess.”

“Whenever you are lost, my love, just call out to me. I will always find you,” he said, gently lowering her to the bed. They made love quietly, quickly and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Xhareen woke up the next morning, screaming.

_Everyone she knew was dead._

_Everywhere. Kaas City, littered with corpses. Ziost, a wasteland. Nothing stirred anywhere, not even the animals. The silence made her scream. She screamed until she was transported through the stars, into a wormhole and to a place where she was standing, watching faint stars swirling around the edge of the galaxy, prowling, like starving wolves sniffing out their prey._

_It was all staring at her, simultaneously. A gaping maw of darkness, calling her name. Then it stopped._

Malavai came running in from the refresher to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, now disturbingly calm.

“I’m standing on the edge of two galaxies. Every star has gone dim here. Every star is going dim there. Everyone is dead, including you. The end of everything.”

Quinn steadied himself against the headboard of the bed. “This doesn’t feel like just a bad dream,” he said.

She shook her head.

“Alright, my love, let’s break it down. This other galaxy, would you say it’s a dwarf galaxy?”

She shrugged.

“There is one we have passed near just recently. Off the Rishi Maze.”

“Rishi,” she whispered. “It’s hungry. We’re the meal.”

Quinn shuddered again. “I’m going to consider it not a coincidence that you have a disturbing dream about Rishi right after Broonmark receives a string of advertisements in his datamail about the wonders of a Rishi vacation.”

That got her attention. “Broonmark doesn’t even use his datamail. Vette set that up for everyone on the ship, but then couldn’t work out an interface so he could use a terminal to retrieve it. He barely noticed.”

“I monitor the channel every week,” Quinn said. “I still monitor yours, too.”

“I guess I need to go to Rishi,” she said.

“No, _we_ need to go to Rishi. This is too important, I can sense it. You shouldn’t go alone.”

“What about your troops?”

“The captains can oversee training. We still have many undertrained recruits.”

She thought for a moment. Quinn had been so pleased to return to the military, to be recognized as a leader. But he’d hardly had a normal experience, some of which was her fault. She wanted him to not only feel important to her, but be important in his own right. “You’re right. But we should at least take a contingent, Malavai. It’s a pirate planet, isn’t it?”

Quinn thought about it for a moment. “That sounds workable. I’ll take a few dozen of my best. We can requisition a vessel for them, something civilian and well used. In case we have to blend in.”

Xhareen smiled then, her face lighting up. “I cannot wait to see you blend in as a pirate.”

Quinn kissed her on the top of her head. “Only for you, my love. Only for you.”

~~~~~

“No way you’re going to Rishi without me. I hear it’s a real dive. I’ve always wanted to go,” Vette decreed when they met at the spaceport outside Kaas City. She was already packed and had stowed her gear on board the Covenant.

Dealing with Jaesa was a bit harder.

“I’m not even going to bother to ask,” Jaesa said.

“We’re going to an unknown situation full of pirates and bounty hunters. Even Quinn can’t calculate the risk, and I know he’s in the other room, trying.”

Jaesa just sighed and said she was going to stay with Kayda.

Xhareen wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep Jaesa out of the fighting. Neither of them feared falling in battle; though Jaesa wouldn’t admit it, they both knew she dreaded the thought of being forcibly returned to the Jedi.

It was a situation that would need closure sooner rather than later.

~~~~~

The trip to Tatooine was quiet, and fraught with concern. Quinn spent most of the journey on the holo with High Command, and with Col. Ovech, who agreed to run interference for him. Xhareen spent most of it gathering what information she could about Rishi and its pirate gangs.

She was overjoyed and more than a little relieved when the first face she saw at the Tatooine hideout belonged to none other than Andronikos Revel.

He and Myroli were more than happy to accompany them to Rishi.

“They’re my people,” Andronikos said, with a wink. “I can be your technical advisor.”

Gislaran came up to her and whispered, “Please, I need to make sure Theron’s safe. I hope you understand.”

Xhareen understood her plea all too well: The Jedi was in love. It wasn’t permitted, but then, Gislaran had proven herself anything but a typical Jedi.

“You’re more than welcome. Scourge, too, if he’s willing.” Scourge, eager to escape the cavernous stronghold, was more than willing.

Khem Val stayed behind, calling the venture “nonsense,” but Myroli’s apprentice Xalek was eager to play along. Releah would come along, on his own. Broonmark and Treek wanted to go, though it was decided they would best fit among the rest of the crew. Xhareen suspected they would run off to hunt anyway, so she agreed.

~~~~~

**_Rishi_ **

They arrived on the planet in two ships: the Covenant, and a civilian freight ship that, with a little modification, comfortably fit the 30 troops, mostly non-humans, Quinn hand-selected to accompany them.

Quinn had decided it would be best to refer to Xhareen as “Captain,” and, since he wasn’t going to leave her side, he could be her “Lieutenant.” He even made a joke about “role reversal” and how much fun it would be, complete with a saucy raising of one eyebrow.

But they all knew the mission here was deadly serious, the pirate gang cover notwithstanding.

Someone had called them here, someone with strong Force powers, strong enough to impart a terrifying vision dream in Xhareen, and close enough to know Quinn’s monitoring habits. They were far from the reach of both the Republic and the Empire, not just by accident of astrogation.

Rishi lay off the main hyperspace lanes. Its proximity to the dwarf galaxy made local navigation tricky – Quinn had insisted on piloting the Covenant on their approach, and sent Andronikos to work with his best pilot on the civilian transport. It was too easy, Quinn explained, for signals to be misread and inter-ship communications and subspace messages frequently could not be delivered.

The planet itself, said to be quite beautiful, had no large industries. Not even Czerka had managed to find any resources to profitably exploit, since the rare mineral found only on the planet, exonium, was notoriously dangerous to transport. The biggest corporations had tried and failed to establish a presence on the planet decades ago, leaving only empty, hulking facilities dotting the surface, almost entirely along the coastlines. The heavy presence of criminal elements made it unsuitable for casual tourism. It was suitable only for one thing: Hiding out.

“It’s what’s hiding here that cannot be seen that you should be most worried about,” Scourge warned. “I sense, as I’m sure you do, a teeming mass of darkness. Even I cannot tell who or what might be causing it. If Revan is here, his presence is being masked.”

Scourge wasn’t wrong, she had to admit. “But we, or I, rather, was called here for a reason, and I aim to find out,” she said.

The advance team – Xhareen, Quinn, Vette, Gislaran, Scourge, Releah, Myroli and Xalek -- disembarked in hopes of finding a suitable hideout for nearly 40 people. They walked a long way on rickety wooden docks from the adjacent landing pads where both ships would be kept.

Xhareen remarked about the bitter stench in the air, one that could almost be tasted, it was so strong.

“That’s leaking tibana gas,” Quinn said. “The residents here rely heavily on fossilized fuels to power the machinery. That’s what we’re dealing with.”

The architecture certainly fit that profile: a hodgepodge of walkways and alley ways and buildings made from wood, rotting wood, decrepit ship parts and old durasteel crates. Numerous small stalls crowded the central landing of the docking area, vendors hawking wares both familiar and exotic. Aliens of species and races she couldn’t even identify mingled with humans of all types.

“Captain, there’s a large bird attempting to get your attention,” Quinn said, bending toward her head. He wasn’t whispering and yet she could barely hear him over the rabble.

 And he was right: A brightly colored bird person, nearly two meters tall, was attempting to get her attention.

“Oh my stars, it’s you! It’s really you!”

“You’re mistaken. I don’t know you, why should you know me?” Xhareen snipped. He was flapping his wings and causing a stir she wasn’t sure she wanted at this venture. They just needed a place to stay.

“Oh, I’ve heard you described in exquisite detail. You run the Howling Tempest Gang, the most ruthless pirates of the Gordian Reach, wherever that is.”

 _Tempest_? Xhareen looked at Quinn. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Your name, now!” she demanded of her fine new feathered friend.

“Qaraah, I’m one of the natives here. A Rishii. Welcome! But you aren’t welcome everywhere, I should warn you!”

“Qaraah, all we’re looking for is a berth for my crew. Big place. You know anything like that?”

“Oh, no, but I know who does. You need to talk to Kai Zykken.”

“Fine, tell me where I can find this Kai Zykken then.”

With a great rustling of feathers, Qaraah shook his head. “Not here. On the Rishii’s island. I’m to give you the coordinates.”

Quinn took the information. “I guess we won’t be seeing much of Raider’s Cove then, Captain.”

Qaraah nudged Quinn with his wing. “You aren’t missing a thing.”

They headed back to the ship. A breeze had started to stir. Xhareen thought for a moment as she walked up the gangplank that she heard someone calling her name.

~~~~~~~

They landed on the Rishii's island. Xhareen and Quinn stepped from the ship, and immediately, a dozen Mandalorians emerged from the dense underbrush. One of them strode forward and removed their helmet. A mane of flame-red hair fell loose.

“I hear you’re looking for Kai Zykken.”

Quinn’s hand moved toward his blaster, but Xhareen stopped him.

“You hear correctly. And who are you?”

“Name’s not important now. I’m here to guide you and your crew to the hideout Kai has so graciously gifted to you.”

They’d been called here, there was no use being too cautious.

“My advance team and I will go first and meet with Zykken. Our crew will stay here, with our ships.”

The Mandalorian leader shrugged. “Whatever you want. It’s this way.”

This island was far less developed than Raider’s Cove, but there were a few clearings with huts, and a few larger buildings scattered along the shoreline to the north of where they landed.

Their guide pointed out a Rishii village about a kilometer from the beach landing. “We’re just past them. They’re nice, peaceful and provide a good cover.”

“We? The Mandalorians are involved in whatever this is?” Xhareen asked.

“Kai Zykken is very persuasive. You’ll be briefed shortly.”

Past the small hill where the Rishii lived lay another gathering of huts and one larger building, more like a small warehouse.

A single figure was waiting in the clearing, wearing a bounty hunter’s masked hood in a familiar set of colors. Xhareen knew who it was immediately, and let out a laugh.

“You know who this Zykken person is, my love?” Quinn whispered. “I mean, Captain?”

She didn’t answer. She just walked up and gave the nameless figure a hug.

The hood came off. It was Lana.

“It’s good to see you, Wrath.”

“Good to see you, too. Is Theron here? Jakarro and Deefour?”

“Yes, they’re inside the main building. I hear you brought back-up, which is fine. We have sufficient lodging, and we’ll likely need them. The Howling Tempest Gang is about to make quite a loud noise here on Rishii.”

~~~~~

As they walked toward the large wooden building, Lana explained that she’d adopted the identity of Kai Zykken, an obsequious fool who ran afoul of the Nova Blades, the most powerful pirate gang on the planet.

“It’s perfect cover,” she said. “The name is known, but no one wants to deal with him if they don’t have to. Nobody even realized he was dead. The Nova Blades didn’t even bother to check the corpse they left behind.”

“How did the Mandalorians get involved?” Quinn asked.

“It’s only a small contingent, not even a full clan, really. Their leader is Shae Visla, the one you met. She found it hard to deal with the Nova Blades, who frequently ‘forget’ to pay what they owe. But she’s brought us vital, frightening intel, which I’ll let Theron review.”

Xhareen didn’t realize that Gislaran had run ahead. When the entered the building, she and Theron were locked in a passionate embrace. When they realized everyone was looking at them, they split apart. Theron cleared his throat several times in a row.

“Hey, Wrath, it’s good to see you again,” he said. Despite the smile on his face, she could see he’d been in a fight recently. His face was bruised and cut, and he had a kolto wrap around his left calf.

“It’s Captain, for now, but yes, Theron, I’m well. Are you OK?”

“I can’t say I’m well, but I’m better than I was 10 minutes ago.” He turned to smile at Gislaran, whose orange skin began to turn the colors of a Tatooine sunset.

“Your secret’s safe, you two, do you understand?” Xhareen said. “We protect each other first and foremost. The fate of the galaxy could well depend on it.”

And thus, an alliance was forged.

~~~~~

It didn’t take long to notice that Theron and Lana weren’t speaking to one another.

Xhareen made a pretense of needing to discuss Sith business with Lana, and they went into a back office and closed the door.

“Alright, Lana. Spill it. What’s up with you and Theron?”

Lana sighed, then put her hands on her hips. In most people, it was a sign of defiance but for Lana, it was a sign of resignation.

“I seem to have overestimated the deviousness of the SIS.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Lana began to pace. “I let Theron get captured by the Revanites.”

That explained the bruises and the kolto patch.

“I miscalculated. I hesitated when Theron got cornered by a group of Nova Blades we were trailing because we knew they were gathering supplies in Raider’s Cove for the Revanites.”

“And you knew that if Theron got captured, he might get intel you could use.”

“I had every intention of freeing him as soon as possible. He was wearing a tracker in his jacket, which, by the way, I put in there because I fully expected him to try to sneak onto the base on his own without telling me.”

Lana had a point; Theron went off on his own several times on Manaan, saying he was meeting contacts. He preferred to work alone, make his own mistakes. But for some reason, this had left him hurting, and not just with visible wounds.

“Did he get anything?” Xhareen asked.

“We know Revan is on the planet, or at least has been. That’s important. I have a feeling he’s trying to provoke … something. I can’t say what.”

“You’re sensing his presence, I assume.”

“That, and more.”

“I’m sensing that something more, too. I’m beginning to think I know why Revan is here.”

Lana spun around. “The Emperor?”

Xhareen nodded. “I was with him when he left his Voice’s body on Voss, and when he left his other form on Dromund Kaas when Gislaran fought him. I thought the presence that called me here was Revan, but now I can tell, it was the same … essence I felt both of those times.”

“That can’t be good,” Lana whispered.

“No, and I’m no good at sitting and waiting for my opponent to strike first. I have to track down whoever’s behind this.”

"Go, then," Lana said. "Because when you return, we have to discuss what to do about the Revanites."

~~~~~

As Xhareen and Quinn were getting everyone settled, Vette got a strange message.

“I doubt this is for me,” she said, showing Xhareen the text, written in ancient Sith.

“It’s been a long time since I used Sith, I’m afraid. Perhaps Lana. Or Scourge can …”

“I can translate it,” Quinn said. “Rather simple program I devised when we were still all on the Covenant.”

He was right, producing a message in about a minute. “They’re coordinates. On the main island not far from where we landed.”

Xhareen grasped for his hand and whispered in his ear: “You really are something.”

“Thank you, my love,” he whispered back. “I’m hoping we can get a room to ourselves for the night, _my Captain_.”

She kissed him, and made a silent vow to survive whatever awaited her on the main island.

What Xhareen couldn’t do was convince Quinn to remain behind. Vette demanded to come, too, reminding them that the message had been sent to her. Xhareen conceded; Vette and Quinn knew the risks. So they set out with Gislaran and Scourge for the coordinates Quinn had decrypted.

The mysterious location turned out to be an ordinary row of mismatched residences in one of the less noisy quarters of Raider’s Cove. They watched the location for at least 30 minutes, but nothing happened.

Until Vette got another message. “It’s safe. Come through the blue door.”

Quinn urged caution, but Xhareen was tired of waiting. “I don’t sense anything sinister here right now, do either of you?” she asked Gislaran and Scourge.

“No, but something touched by a foul presence has been here,” Scourge said.

“Noted. I’m going in first. Quinn, you and Vette come in next, weapons ready.” She pointed at Gislaran and Scourge: “The two of you, watch our backs.”

As it turned out, the caution wasn’t needed. They made their way into a room that bore an uncanny resemblance to an Imperial Intelligence ops center, though smaller.

Xhareen recognized the figure facing away from them, staring at a large map of the island and its surroundings. Four small red dots skittered across the map, then disappeared.

“It’s good you are here, Wrath.” It was Darth Vowrawn. “I’ll dispense with the niceties, although it is encouraging to see you looking well, my dear.”

“Vowrawn. What are you doing here?”

“Officially, I’m on my way to review our resources in the Outer Rim. Unofficially, I’m looking for the same thing you are.”

“The Emperor,” Scourge said as he entered the room.

Vowrawn gasped. “Well, aren’t you a fine specimen! I can’t believe one such as yourself could have escaped my notice, Sith.”

Scourge started to speak, but Xhareen interrupted him. “We don’t have time for formal introductions. Darth Vowrawn, this is Lord Scourge. My predecessor as the Emperor’s Wrath.”

Vowrawn wrinkled his brow, causing his eyestalks to jut outwards, one of the jewels catching the light from the map. Xhareen wondered if he practiced that particular move. “There hasn’t been a Wrath before you for centuries. Since he – or rather, this impossibly young-looking friend of yours – turned traitor and ran.”

“That’s why you don’t know me, Vowrawn,” Scourge scowled. “And what I did, I did for the sake of the entire galaxy.”

Vowrawn ignored his answer, walking over to Gislaran instead. “I know you, Jedi. You were the Emperor’s plaything for a while, and then you weren’t.

Gislaran said nothing. Her lightsabers were calm, but she kept them unholstered and obviously ready to use.

“Interesting companions you have, my dear,” Vowrawn said to Xhareen, heading back to the map. “But then again, you have always surrounded yourself with interesting people. But these two, the Jedi and the Traitor, should come in handy.”

“We really should get on with it, Darth Vowrawn,” Xhareen said. “I appreciate your concerns but there are lives at stake.”

 “Agreed and noted,” Vowrawn said. “I, too, dare not linger here. The Sith left this post unmanned after they took over Intelligence, but as you can see, someone has been using it even before my arrival.

“So I’ll get right to it: The Republic claims the Emperor is dead, but I hear rumors to the contrary. The game pieces are moving. Indications are you are being watched, Xhareen, and have been for some time. These spies are mechanical, but ingeniously hidden using a combination of ancient and modern tech, welded into form … using the Force.”

Four small dots appeared on the map again, flickered, then went out. This time, Xhareen got a sense of direction from them. They appeared to be traveling from the Rishii island toward Raider’s Cove.

“That’s all the longer I am able to track them for via the lone Imperial satellite over this planet. But I have something that will help with a more intimate encounter,” Vowrawn said.

He held out a small device, which appeared to be a power cell, and beckoned Vette and Quinn to come closer.

Quinn scanned the object and showed the results to Vette. “It’s just like the probe we found chasing us in the shipyard,” she said. “Jaesa could tell it was using the Force. It was totally creepy, then and now.”

Vowrawn continued: “As I understand, you never chose to become the Wrath. The position was thrust upon you. Tell me, has it been all you truly desired?”

“All I ever wanted, after killing Vengean and then Baras of course, was to serve the Empire. I know that sounds trite, but it’s true.”

“Do you feel you’re able to do that, in the Emperor’s service?” Vowrawn asked, posturing like an academic who queries his students while knowing the answer all the while.

Xhareen shook her head. “I feel like I was used, then abandoned. I’ve charted my own course since then, although I suppose I wasn’t as abandoned as I thought. Do you know who is following me?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m sure you have suspects in mind, though. And I have a way to confirm your suspicions, if you’re interested.”

Quinn began to shift around. Xhareen came up and put her hand on his shoulder. “We’ll never have peace until we know, my love,” she said softly. He holstered his blaster, which he’d kept out but pointed at the floor all this time, then placed his hand over hers.

Vowrawn produced a small box and opened it to reveal a glowing sphere unlike any she’d ever seen.

“I cannot tell you how I came across this, but it is a device made using Gree technology that will reveal whomever or whatever pursues you,” Vowrawn said. “I suggest you take this to a remote area and activate it. Your watchers will be drawn to the signal and be unable to remain cloaked.

“And though I would love to spend more time with you and am definitely interested in what you find, I’m afraid our paths must diverge here, my dear lord Xhareen. But I have confidence you will prevail, and will know what to do with the intelligence you gather today.”

They said their goodbyes, and Vowrawn turned his attention toward the map again.

Before she slipped out of the building, she took one long look at him, and prayed it was not the last.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	79. A Lot of What is True is Not Known

**_Dromund Kaas_ **

Nica Leross knocked twice before she heard Darth Marr growl, “Enter.” She slid through the back entrance that only a privileged few knew about.

“Are you bringing me more bad news, Nica?” he asked, less gruffly, without turning around.

“Afraid so, my lord. There are some unusual developments with the fleet in the Outer Rim.”

They were unusual, indeed. Four fleet groups were diverted toward an inconsequential planet called Rishi. Marr said he had heard of the place, but it was deemed to have no strategic value.

Even Czerka had determined it had no exploitable resources and the Republic had shown no interest in the place, either.

“Order the fleets to hold their positions along the Imperial hyperspace routes until my flagship arrives,” he said.

Nica nodded. “Yes, my lord.” She did not hurry out the door as she normally did. As she started to speak, Darth Marr interrupted.

“Is there something else?”

“I believe Lord Wrath might be involved somehow. Her former husband requisitioned two ships to Tatooine, then left without filing any more flight plans,” Nica said.

“Wait … her former husband? Last I heard, she and Major Quinn were still together,” Marr said.

“All I could learn, my lord, is that the marriage was annulled, but the records don’t say by whom. It’s highly unusual. If one party felt aggrieved, they would have to sign off on the request,” Nica explained.

“But it would have to be filed by one of them, or a member of the Dark Council, given her status.”

“Or a command-level military officer. I will continue to look into it, my lord.”

“No, Nica. You’re onto something. And you have a connection to the Wrath. You’re coming with me. We fly out in 20 minutes. You can access any database you need from my ship.”

~~~~~

**_On board the Dauntless, Outer Rim Territories_ **

Satele Shan took a deep breath, but the vision persisted. She recited the Jedi Code but if she were honest with herself, it didn’t help. The words offered no comfort. They didn’t clear the vision, the crystal-clear image of her son in trouble.

It wasn’t like other visions; she couldn’t discuss this with her peers or her military colleagues or any of her subordinates, even her most trusted advisers. It wasn’t exactly a state secret that she had a son and that he was now an SIS agent. But anyone who knew was smart enough to pretend not to.

It wasn’t like Satele Shan, Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, could openly acknowledge her mistake, even decades later. Especially since she had never once showed contrition and had never once said, even to herself, that Theron’s birth had been a mistake.

The Force has a way of getting what it wants. But Satele wasn’t ignorant: She was also fully aware that her son was his own man, who had grown up without knowing anything about her other than that she bore him and could not openly acknowledge him. Nor did he live by the same precepts she did.

He wasn’t Force sensitive. He didn’t live by following its will, or paying attention to its ebb and flow. He served the Republic in his own way.

And he was in trouble now.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

She distracted herself by asking for a status report. When it was more than a minute in coming to her, she knew something was up, something important.

A young captain delivered the news. “Master Shan, we are fielding reports of strange movements in the Abrion sector. Our three largest battle groups are heading toward the same objective,” she said.

“What’s the destination?” Satele asked

“Toward a known center of pirate activity, a planet called …”

“Rishi,” Satele answered. “Change our course immediately and put us beside the largest of the fleet’s battle groups.”

_The Force has its own way, indeed._

~~~~~

**_Rishi_ **

Finding a secluded place to draw out Xhareen’s pursuers proved more difficult than she expected on a sparsely populated jungle planet. The shorter days on this planet meant that nighttime came too soon to make any plans. They decided to wait until the next morning to pick a place.

The new arrivals, unaccustomed to the time change, found they couldn’t sleep. Quinn studied the data Lana and Theron had gathered for hours, while Myroli organized a sabacc tournament on machines purloined from the Nova Blades. The final showdown pitted Releah against Broonmark, who eventually took all the winnings.

It was nearing sunrise when they finally fell asleep on cots scattered in the back corner of the main hall. After a few fitful hours of sleep, Quinn woke Xhareen and the party with caff and his findings so far. 

The Rishii island was right out; they didn’t want to put them in any danger or alert the Revanites who had also established camps here. On the main island, there were pirate strongholds and nature preserves – areas with rare native wildlife considered sacred to the Rishii -- dotted along the uninhabited coastline.

Xhareen tasked Quinn and Theron with reviewing Theron’s recon data he gathered when he first landed; Theron seemed grateful to have something to do that didn’t involve Lana’s input.

Lana had retreated to her back room with Scourge and Gislaran. Xhareen left the main hall to speak with them.

“You sense it, don’t you?” Scourge asked Lana as Xhareen entered the room.

“I don’t want to believe it, but it’s true. Somehow, it’s Vitiate,” Lana replied.

Gislaran sank down further into an old chair that looked like it had been stolen from Alderaan at least a century ago. “There’s something you need to know, Xhareen,” she said. “About why we were trying to kill your emperor back on Dromund Kaas.”

When she had finished her story, Xhareen wasn’t sure whether to be angry or sick. Vitiate had taken Gislaran captive, subverting her independent will and forcing her to be his agent. She broke free, but still harbored nightmares about what she might have done. Then through his surrogates, including a fallen Jedi master, he had sought to eradicate millions of lives in a single blast on Corellia to fuel some ritual.

After hearing the whole tale, Scourge insisted Vitiate’s real plan was to wipe out the entire galaxy.

“Whether he needs a surge of death and violence to give him power to find a new bodily host, or to fuel his immortality, I don’t know,” Scourge said. “Perhaps both.”

It made sense, in the twisted way anything about Vitiate made sense. He’d spoken such kind words to her in the Dark Temple as his spirit passed. The Hand, though bossy and stoic like a couple of old schoolmasters, had praised her lavishly at first, courting her favor and obedience, but had been virtually silent since she put Baras down for them.

“You think he’s trying to do that here? On Rishi?” Xhareen asked.

“No,” Scourge insisted. “But he’s using the Revanites here for some purpose toward that goal. He ultimately wants to destroy all life in the galaxy and escape to another one.”

It sounded preposterous but felt true.

“Let’s not speak of this to the others just yet, not even Theron, okay, Lana?” Xhareen said. “I won’t even tell Quinn until I have to.”

Lana nodded. “Perhaps whatever you find by drawing in the probes tracking you will give us more information about all this. I don’t want to believe it, any of it, but it seems I have no choice.”

Xhareen left them to talk in the back room and went out to see whether Quinn and Theron had made any progress. They’d narrowed their choices down to three islands, each several hours away by shuttle.

They were debating the merits of each site when Shae Vizla approached with a suggestion.

“We have a base about a hundred kliks northwest of here,” she said. “You probably have it marked as inhabited, but I guarantee, there are no more than 20 people there right now, all on the southeast side.

“The western side is unoccupied except by some runaway k’lor’slugs and other creepy crawlies we might have accidentally released as hunt training for our young ones. Might have accidentally upset the local balance of nature and all that, too, so if you have to have a firefight, you won’t be killing any rare species or anything.”

Theron tapped at his datapad and nodded. “Huh. Looks good to me.”

Quinn agreed.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll take our chances,” Xhareen said. “I’m hoping we don’t draw anything more than some easily defeated probe droids. Thank you.”

“Glad to assist. I’ll let the clan know you’ll be there and to just ignore you. Unless you need backup. It’s a tiny island. The fighters can be there in less than 10 minutes.”

Shae wasn’t kidding about the remoteness of the location where she suggested they land. Quinn flew the shuttle while Gislaran, Scourge and Vette came along for backup. For all she could tell from what they could see flying over that half of the island, they might as well be the only five sentient beings in existence.

The jungle gave way around the coastline to grass-covered rocky cliffs. The group hiked down one of the more gentle slopes until they reached a sandy alcove set back at least 400 meters from the shore.

“I hope this qualifies as remote,” Xhareen said to no one in particular.

“I suggest we get on with this, my lord,” Quinn said, pointing to a group of rocks that jutted up through the pearl-white sand.

Quinn deployed the Gree device Vowrawn had given them. It buzzed to life, then hovered like a holocron, though without any type of base to give it support.

They waited five minutes, then 10. Xhareen was just going to suggest they haul back up the cliffside when a loud droning noise sounded.

Instinctively, she dropped to the ground right as the wave of pressure and pain and nausea struck. Gislaran and Scourge dropped beside her, but Vette and Quinn seemed unaffected.

Four ovoid probe droids, each about a half meter tall, appeared, circling the alcove around the party.

Quinn ran to assist Xhareen, but she waved him off. “Stay ready, Major,” she ordered.

“I don’t know if this is good or bad, but these look just like the probe that chased me in the shipyard,” Vette said.

Jaesa had said the machine contained Force energy, though these seemed capable of somehow suppressing it, too. But the effect wore off quickly and Xhareen made it to her feet. She and Gislaran helped Scourge to stand, as it seemed the attack had been the worst for him.

That’s when the chanting began.

“When he returns all stars will die …” intoned one group of metallic, disembodied voices.

“When he returns, there will be silence …” another group replied.

The first two anthropomorphic droids materialized past the probe droids and began walking toward the party. Xhareen immediately released her sabers and took them out just as another set came into view.

“The Wrath disobeys, darkness must be preserved!” the two droids said, sending out a charge of lightning that threw Xhareen back into the cliff wall.

Scourge shouted and charged at them, deflecting the first bolt of lightning and evading the second.

“The Wraths cannot know! The ritual must proceed!” The two droids were now joined by two more just like them, now chanting at a higher, fevered pitch.

“Over my dead body!” Scourge called out as he jumped onto one of the droids and rent it in half with his saber blade.

The other three turned toward him, leaving them vulnerable. Xhareen and Gislaran leapt onto two of them, slicing them as Scourge had done.

The remaining droid did not attack but stood frozen still. Xhareen threw her blades at one of the probe droids and Gislaran and Scourge attacked two others. The remaining probe droid started to glow and began moving toward the position where Quinn and Vette were hiding behind the rocks.

Quinn emerged from cover and unloaded his blaster on it right as it fired a powerful blast at the rocks overhead. Quinn yelled for Vette to duck, as the droid fell to the sand.

There was a sickening moment of silence before they heard Vette say, "Hey ... guys?" weakly. Quinn ran over to her, and Xhareen arrived a second later after jumping. Her left leg was pinned by Huttball-sized rocks. Xhareen used a burst of the Force to blow them away from the party.

Quinn moved in and examined her. "Nothing's broken, but your leg will need some time in kolto," Quinn said.

Despite her relief, Xhareen found herself unable to breathe one moment, then hyperventilating the next. Quinn sat her down next to Vette and gave her a stim in the arm.

"Hey, I know nothing's broken but you think Dr. Quinn will give me some of the good stuff?" Vette whispered. "Cheer up. I'm fine already. Just, you know, hoping." Xhareen patted her on the arm.

Scourge ran his blade through the last droid standing. It fell to the sand, silent.

“It's Vitiate's emissaries. They're here,” he said, “and they’re not happy.”

~~~~~

They flew back to the camp. Quinn escorted Vette out of the hatch as soon as they landed the shuttle, but then turned as he noticed that Xhareen, Gislaran and Scourge did not get off the ship.

“You stay here, Malavai. Help Vette. The three of us have someone to meet on the main island,” she said.

“I should be by your side, my love,” he replied, quietly.

She took his hand into both of hers. “Not now. I want you far from this influence even if I would rather have you watching out for me.”

He relented. “Come right back. Vette will be settling down with a nice tranq shortly. It’s almost nightfall. We shouldn’t waste the nights here.”

~~~~~

Xhareen, Gislaran and Scourge approached the alleyway that led to the Imperial Intelligence post where Vowrawn had been. As before, they waited for a few minutes, though no one came or went through the blue door.

“I’ll go in first. Wait for my signal to follow. I’m not sure how they’ll react, so be ready to defend yourselves,” Xhareen said.

The door was not locked. Xhareen cursed quietly that she should have deployed the Gree device to see if the inevitable surveillance was enhanced by the Hand’s nosy droids. She walked into the small foyer and unholstered her mainhand lightsaber but kept it unlit.

As expected, Servant One and Servant Two were inside, waiting for her.

“Wrath, you should not have destroyed the Opticrons,” Servant One said. “They are for your protection.”

“They are for spying on me. Which you should have known you did not need to do. They were an insult,” she said, raising her voice and slipping her offhand into her pocket, where she kept a small transponder.

“They exist so we may know you. You exist to serve our master.”

“And do what? Die? Let the whole galaxy die? I won’t do it.” She pressed the button on the transponder as she waved her unlit saber at the Sith in front of her. She could not be sure of his powers, so she didn’t want to start anything yet, but she hoped the brazen move would distract him from what her other hand was doing.

“That is not your concern,” he replied, nonplussed. “You are an instrument of our master’s will. What does not threaten him is not your concern. We fear you forget this.”

Scourge and Gislaran walked in as he finished speaking. For the first time, Xhareen registered emotion on both of the servants’ faces, something akin to shock.

“This explains much,” Servant Two said.

“Indeed,” his partner agreed. “You have spent too much time among the fleet, and the riffraff, including the Dark Council. And we cannot condone your tolerance for traitors.”

Scourge and Gislaran joined Xhareen by her side, though they kept their weapons holstered.

“I’ll spend time where and with whom I please for the good of the Empire,” Xhareen said. “You personally encouraged me to keep the Empire strong for the Emperor’s return, when it seems you really wanted to have the opposite occur.”

Servant One waved his hand. “We are at a delicate juncture and you must trust in us.”

“Not a chance, not anymore. You’re just like Baras. I do everything you ask, and yet you betray me. You betray the empire. You betray the entire galaxy.”

“There is no betrayal. There is only obedience,” Servant Two intoned.

Xhareen lifted her offhand and gave Servant Two enough of a Force choke to get his attention, but she let him go when she heard Gislaran and Scourge ignite their sabers. “Enough babbling from you,” she said as he took in a long, rasping gasp of breath.

“Cease!” Servant One yelled. But he quieted immediately. He still needed something from her.

“Please, Wrath, I understand Darth Vowrawn was to meet you here. He has committed crimes against the Hand and must answer for them.”

Xhareen shrugged. “I found your droids following me, then a foul presence that led us here. I can only wish it had been Vowrawn instead.”

“Your insolence will be tolerated for now, Wrath, because we are certain you will do what’s right when the time comes,” Servant One said. “You will be obedient to our master. You will serve as you have been called to do. We would call you to our sanctuary, but it is not yet time. Your edge must not be dulled.”

When she started to speak, he waved his hand again. “Have faith that all questions will be answered. Our emperor is returning, and we will fuel his flame. We can pursue Vowrawn with our own means.”

“Have faith that I am reconsidering our arrangement, Servant One. You have given me nothing and I have given everything.” She raised her hand as if to choke him but refrained. “If your master desires my aid, he can speak to me himself.”

“You have made a grievous error, Wrath. It is not up to us to set you back on the right course, but you should reconsider your mistakes.”

“No, Servant One, the error was yours. I was prepared to serve, to give my life. I did give my child’s life. I nearly lost my husband. I will not follow blindly. I am not the blunt instrument you thought me to be.

“I will no longer heed your orders and for the record, your cryptic words mean nothing,” she said as she holstered her saber and turned to leave.

But she stopped as Servant Two, his voice still raspy, said, “Obey or not, you must still fulfill your destiny.”

“We’re done here. I have the means to detect your Opticrons, and I will not be followed again,” she replied, without turning around.

Gislaran followed, but Scourge stayed behind for a moment.

“History will show who is, and who is not, the traitor, _brothers_ ,” he said.

~~~~~

Everything was safe back at the camp, much to Xhareen’s relief. She couldn’t shake the sense of dread the Servants had evoked. She knew she’d been used by them, but the betrayal had only sunk in after seeing them again. She sat with Vette for several hours, watching old holonovellas on yet another piece of electronics "donated" by the Nova Blades.

After a small late supper, night was finally beginning to fall, and she was more than ready for sleep. She was going to ask Lana if there was, by some miracle, a portable ‘fresher when Quinn came up with another idea.

“I’ve secured some time at a small basin in the cove just east of the camp. It’s quite deserted and there’s a waterfall,” Quinn whispered into her ear.

“Just what I need before a good night’s sleep,” she whispered back.

“I was hoping there’d be time for one more thing before sleep,” he said, nipping at her ear.

“Then you’ll find a way to keep me awake for a bit longer?”

“Affirmative.”

~~~~~

Quinn had thought of everything for the night, including finding another secluded spot where a hammock had been strung between two trees.

Although it wasn’t stable or big enough for lovemaking – Quinn had brought a large blanket for that – it was the perfect thing for a long night’s rest in each other’s arms.

She slept until dawn. Quinn was already up, coming back from the cove after washing up.

He’d brought fresh clothing for them both, so Xhareen grabbed one of the torches and went to the water to clean up.

As she was heading back to the clearing, a sense of dread descended on her. Not like that from the probe droids, although by this point, she couldn’t be bothered to worry if the Hand were watching her spend a torrid night with her husband or not.

Quinn had the site cleared by the time she returned. “I’ve just gotten a call from Lana. There’s …”

“I know, I can feel it. Let’s get back as quickly as possible, darling.”

Most of the crew was in the large building, watching the monitor as Theron and Lana called out readings. Given all the yawning and cups of caff being distributed, most of them had just been woken up, too.

“Lana, situation report, now,” Xhareen said.

Many Republic and Imperial ships were headed toward the Rishi system, “including Darth Marr’s dreadnought and several capital ships,” Lana said. 

“Yeah, and the Grand Master’s ship is accompanying three major battle units on the other side,” Theron said. "Apparently, Revan's prepared to throw quite the party."

“Well, at least the battle didn’t start without us,” Xhareen said. “What do we have to do to contact the fleets and tell them to stand down?”

“I’m afraid there’s some sort of signal jammer in the Revanite’s camp …” Lana began.

Just then, a dozen Revanite battleships broke off and headed away, toward Imperial space.

A Republic battle group began to give chase until both disappeared into hyperspace.

But that still left a well-matched group of Imperial, Republic and Revanite ships poised to begin firing on each other.

“We need to find a way to get into that camp. Now,” Xhareen said.

“My lord, I have a plan,” said Quinn, who had moved up to the display board without being noticed. He began to manipulate the map until it zoomed in on the Revanite camp, gave an assessment of their remaining assets, and outlined his strategy for taking them out.

“It should work,” Lana said.

“No, it’s too dangerous. I won’t risk losing you, Malavai, or your soldiers. My first mission as their so-called leader and it’s a wipeout? I can’t have that,” Xhareen said.

“My love … my lord,” Quinn said, clearing his throat to cover the slip, “it is dangerous, yes, but my troops are trained for this. We can draw away the stragglers left in the Revanite camp while you take a team in to shut down that jammer beacon.”

“You’re outnumbered,” she protested.

“But not outgunned. We have Jakarro’s ship, Theron's shuttle, three Mandalorian vessels, and the ships we came here with. It is sufficient,” he countered. “I wouldn’t propose it otherwise.”

And that was all he needed to say. Xhareen knew it to be true. She had to let go of her fear and trust her husband’s competence.

“You’re right, I should not have doubted you, Major. How soon can you be ready?”

“Within 10 minutes. My soldiers know to stay ready. They know their commander’s eyes are always scanning for trouble.”


	80. Everything That Rises Must Converge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Remain true to yourself, but move ever upward toward greater consciousness and greater love! At the summit you will find yourselves united with all those who, from every direction, have made the same ascent. For everything that rises must converge.”_ \-- **Pierre Teilhard de Chardin**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for battlefield violence, casualties and character death.

By the time Quinn and the ships made it to the Revanite camp, however, no signs of life or trouble could be found. 

“Not quite the party we were looking for,” Theron said as he made a sweep over the spot where, two hours earlier, the satellite had shown a dozen fighters and scores of heat signatures from live bodies. 

“One more recon pass and then we head to where the ground team is,” Quinn replied. 

“Wait, Major. I have an idea. We need to land the ships,” Theron said. 

His earlier “visit” to the compound was about to pay off. And dammit if Lana wasn’t about to be proven right. He’d never admit it, but she knew what spies did and … well, in about five minutes, her gamble with his backside could help guarantee their victory. 

Quinn ordered his troops to fan out and do recon with the Mandalorians. He followed Theron to a nondescript shack on the edge of a stream that ran through the compound. 

“This is the control center for various functions of the camp – water purification, sewerage, all the gross but essential things you need when people live together in buildings,” Theron explained. “It’s also where they first stuck me after they captured me. Just long enough for me to slice in a backdoor to the mainframe.” 

“Which I’m sure they’ve wiped of any usable information before they departed,” Quinn said.

Theron raised his finger. “True, and I was counting on that. Maybe not so soon, but I had my bot mirror their essential systems. Get me access to my terminal back at our camp, and I can download whatever secrets they were hiding here. I’m sure that sassy slicer you and Xhareen hang with taught you a trick or two.” 

Quinn raised an eyebrow and smirked. “She taught me quite a bit, Agent Shan.”

 

~~~~~

On board his ship, Darth Marr paced. A few scattered vessels that were neither Imperial nor Republic in registry remained poised between his ships and the Republics. Sensors showed all ships weapons hot, but no one was firing yet. 

“She’s here, my lord,” Nica said. 

“I know. So is something else … something malevolent, oppressive,” he said. “As much as I’d love to show off what isotope-5 is capable of in battle, we will not be the first to fire. But when I give the order, we will wipe out whomever we must to survive.”

 

~~~~~

Xhareen took her team to a beach about a kilometer from the position where Theron had pinpointed the signal being used to jam atmospheric and near-space transmissions. Lana had stayed behind at the camp with Vette to provide support. 

They debarked and trod quietly through dense jungle. HK and Xalek stayed behind to guard the shuttle, one that Lana inherited from Kai Zykken, with only a minimum of griping. 

“There’s a gated area blocking the way to a set of elevators that will take you to the control buildings. Clear those out, shut down the computers, then you should have a straight shot to the landing zone where the transmitter is,” Vette said over comms, right before they got to the enclosed clearing. 

They were surprised to find the position unguarded. Releah and Myroli, with Vette’s remote guidance, spent a few tense minutes slicing the gate controls, and then re-starting the elevators. 

Securing the buildings was easy enough, since they managed to completely surprise the skeleton crews in the first one, preventing them from getting a warning out to anyone else. The second building was guarded by a large war droid, however, which Gislaran, Andronikos, Myroli and Scourge kept busy while rest stormed inside. 

Only two people remained – a Zabrak Jedi and a Pureblood Sith. “Aren’t you the odd couple,” Xhareen said as she and Lana bound and gagged them. 

“This was too easy,” Releah said. 

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Xhareen agreed. “We’re being led somewhere. There’s no escaping it, no other path, so let’s all be ready for whatever’s waiting for us.” 

They walked carefully along a grassy, winding path. The only resistance they encountered were a few stray krakja cats unwilling to surrender their turf until Broonmark took a running leap toward them and they fled, shrieking, back into the jungle. 

“I see why you keep him around,” Myroli said. “Your little murder bear is most useful, too.” 

“Don’t forget my kill-happy droid,” Xhareen said. 

“We’re all quite the team,” Myroli said. “I still cherish the look on Moff Regus’s face when his ass was saved by a team of nearly all aliens on Ilum.” 

“They’ll learn sooner or later that they need us.” 

“One can only hope. Stay alive, and hope, that is.” 

Releah walked up to where they were standing. “Your big furry sabacc genius and I are going to scout ahead. He says he can smell human sweat from here.” 

“OK, but be careful and report back as soon as you can,” Xhareen said. 

Within three minutes, a shriek ripped through the air. 

“That’s Broonmark,” Xhareen shouted as she took a step and leapt forward in the direction of the screaming. The rest of the team followed. 

They found Broonmark, covered in blood, fending off attack from six Revanites. Two more Revanites lay dead on the ground, including one lying next to a blood-covered vibrosword, still humming. Releah was nowhere to be seen. 

Xhareen wasn’t sure whose blood stained Broonmark’s fur and she had no time to think about it until after the Revanites had been dispatched. Broonmark grabbed her as the last one fell and they ran to a small grove of Rishi palms. 

Releah was lying on a bed of palm leaves. He’d been gutted by the vibroknife. 

“You’re here, dove,” he said when he saw Xhareen. 

“Shhhh, don’t talk,” she said as she cradled his head in her lap. She turned to Andronikos, who nodded and whispered “I’ll contact the Major.” As he ran off toward the clearing, Myroli and Gislaran approached. 

“We can work on healing him as best we can,” Myroli said. 

“I’m not leaving him,” Xhareen said. Myroli’s eyes were closed, but she could see tears on her face as purple energy left her fingertips. Xhareen had not, in all the years she’d known her, ever see Myroli cry. 

Gislaran, too, was surrounding him with pulsing yellow light, just like Jaesa could do. 

“I bet I’m glowing,” Releah laughed, then began coughing. 

“What did I say? Stop talking, Releah.” 

“No, dove, there are too many things I have to say. I can hear the Force calling me. Blasted Jedi were right I guess. Ashara …” 

“Shut up and hang in there. You can tell your Jedi in person that she was right.” 

“Please, Xhareen. Make sure she’s OK. If she seems too sad, or guilty, you tell her exactly how awful it was being in love with me.” 

“You’re being ridiculous. I never regretted any of the feelings I’ve ever had for you.” 

“Hmm, tha’s _nnn_ … ” he mumbled, as he fell unconscious. Xhareen gasped. 

“It’s OK,” Gislaran comforted her. “He’s entering a healing trance now. But we need to stop this bleeding.” 

It felt like hours, but Andronikos came back to the grove. “Seems the Revanite camp was empty. The ships were on their way to us. Should be landing any minute now. The others are guarding the landing zone, but your Talz wants to run ahead where the rest of the Revanites are and wipe them out already.” 

“Thank you, Andronikos,” Xhareen said quietly. “Tell Broonmark he’ll get his chance as soon as we have Releah stabilized. Have him come here and tell me what happened.” 

Even with implants, Xhareen was probably the only one who could understand Broonmark in his bloodlust state. He explained that he and Releah surprised the first two Revanites, one of whom cut Releah before Broonmark took him down. Broonmark carried Releah to the trees and pulled the large palm leaves together for a bed, and was getting ready to contact her when the other six Revanites came upon the dead bodies. Broonmark was just engaging them when Xhareen and the rest showed up. 

“Thank you, Broonmark. You kept him alive, and yourself. You’ll get your revenge momentarily.” 

He turned to leave, then turned back. “Your heartmate and the agent are here.” 

Quinn ran over to Xhareen and stopped. 

“Quinn, please save him. I’m begging you,” she said, trying not to sob. 

“Let me get to work. Sgt. Dolan is on her way with a full kit. She’s a skilled field medic.” 

Gislaran and Myroli moved away from Releah to let Quinn work. “He’s in stasis only, Major,” Myroli said. “He’ll wake up momentarily.” 

“Acknowledged,” Quinn replied. “I’ll give him a pain blocker and set to these wounds.” 

Xhareen refused to watch what Quinn was doing, instead focusing on Releah’s face. She began to sing the first song that popped into her head, a pop song she heard frequently when she and Quinn were on Ziost. 

The sergeant, a Togruta, arrived soon after and they worked quietly but furiously to save her friend. 

He woke up a little later and must have seen Sgt. Dolan. “You’re not her. I wish she was here, Xhareen.” 

“You’re going to see her soon. We’ll patch you up and get you back to Tatooine, _visahot_.” 

“ _Hnnh_ , I haven’t heard Cheunh in so long,” he whispered. 

“You always complained my pronunciation was terrible,” Xhareen said. 

Quinn backed away from them a bit and whispered to someone over comms, then got back to work. 

“You know what I wish? I wish I could have seen that husband of yours naked, _visahot_ ,” Releah said, choking and laughing. 

Quinn’s face flushed but he said nothing. 

“Hush. Being wounded in battle is no excuse for being rude,” she teased. 

He said nothing more after that. One of Quinn’s soldiers, a Chiss corporal, came over to them, sat down and begin chanting. 

“Blast,” Quinn said, followed quickly by a curse from the medic. 

“There’s nothing more we can do, sir,” she said. 

“Xhareen …” he began. 

She nodded her head. “Can you wake him back up? I need to say goodbye.” 

Quinn gave him one stim, then another. Releah’s eyes fluttered for a second, then opened. 

“Xhareen? I can’t see you, dove. Oh, I hear the prayers. Rather hear your singing but I guess this is appropriate.” He coughed a few times. “Don’t be sad, Xhareen. I got to be Sith. My parents sacrificed so much to get me off Csilla. 

“Put my body wherever Ashara wants it. Somewhere beautiful, like you.” 

“Releah, I don’t want you to go but …” she began. 

“It’s my time. I died fighting. That’s all I wan…” 

Xhareen started to scream, but she felt a warm breeze envelop her, taking her back to her childhood on Dromund Kaas, when she raged and fought against the rules that Darth Neveris and Lord Gamheen had in place for their ragged bunch of alien fosterlings. 

When Xhareen was particularly distraught, Lord Gamheen would sing to her in Miralukan and Releah, always trying to get her attention, had somehow spied on them and learned to mimic the words and would sing them back at her later. She was 8 and he was 9. 

Then she was back on Rishi, and she knew what she had to do. 

She began to sing her father’s lullaby, the same song Quinn sang to her to calm her rage.  Quinn joined in, quietly. The corporal continued to chant as well. 

Just as the corporal finished, Quinn stood up. “Xhareen, we need to get back to the fight. I’ll have a platoon stay here with him until we’re done.” 

She stood up and nearly fell into his arms. He hugged her tightly and stroked her hair. “Come now, there will be time to mourn later,” he said.

 

~~~~~

The time spent tending to Releah was all the remaining Revanites needed to disable the lone Imperial satellite above the planet and regroup by the shuttleport where the signal jammer was located. 

But that just made mowing them down easier. With Quinn’s troops and the Mandalorians, they were evenly matched in numbers and having four Force users and one angry Talz gave them the advantage. Xhareen wasn’t sure what motivated Scourge and Gislaran, but she and Myroli were free to use all their rage and grief and the two of them and Broonmark alone dispatched of almost half of the Revanites. The Revanites might have thought they had a victory in hand, but Xhareen was more than confident the cultists would fall. 

Until the walker appeared. 

Eight of Quinn’s soldiers, including two officers, and one of the Mandalorians fell before the rest could take cover. The walker’s pilot seemed to hesitate on taking out any of the electronic equipment, but it also kept them pinned down and no one could reach the jammer. 

Theron and Quinn dove behind the same generator. 

“We can’t do anything here, Agent Shan. Any ideas?” 

Theron thought for a moment. “Yeah, my shuttle and the mando shuttles have towing cables. And the mandos always carry speeders.” 

Quinn smiled. “They sure do. Race you back to the landing zone.” 

The walker pilot must have received orders, because it began firing on one of the large computer stations. Several Mandalorians scattered away; two were picked off with one remaining shell. 

The walker began stomping its metallic feet, turning anticlockwise toward another bank of computer stations. All could hear its guns spooling up for another attack. 

Xhareen, not sure where Quinn had taken cover, was prepared to leap out and attack the thing by herself if she had to when two speeders appeared, holding a durasteel cable between them. A few delicate maneuvers later, and they had wrapped the cable around the walker’s legs. It stopped in place, its gears groaning so loud the wooden deck began to shake. 

The pilot couldn’t fire on the speeders, as they were too close and too low; a miss and the deck beneath them would have been shot through. Or any of several groups of fuel tanks could have been hit, turning the entire shuttleport into a flaming ball of tibana gas. Xhareen could see as the speeders headed back toward the gate where they had entered that Quinn was flying one, and Theron the other. 

She shouted for anyone who could hear to get behind the walker, as it clearly would not be able to make a turn without falling. 

The speeders disappeared for a moment, then reappeared behind the walker with another cable. This time, then didn’t circle it, they just kept flying low enough to clothesline its wrapped legs. The walker was unbalanced enough that it took a slow, fatal nosedive into the wreckage of the computer station it had just destroyed. A group of Mandalorians and Quinn’s soldiers opened fire on the cockpit until it was reduced to rubble. 

As the troops were cheering, Xhareen ran toward the signal jammer. Theron and Quinn landed their speeders and joined her. The two men ran toward the center control panel and quickly disabled the signal jammer. But that still left dozens of ships in the skies and near space above them, with more on the way. 

“My lord, man that station there. Order it to turn the artillery guns on the remnants of the Revanite fleet above us,” Quinn said, pointing to a screen and a series of firing controls. 

As she did that, Quinn contacted Imperial fleet, and Theron contacted the Republic. A holocomm displayed the images of Darth Marr and Grandmaster Shan. 

“Darth Marr, Master Shan, you have traitors in your fleets, scores of them, acting on orders from Revan,” Xhareen said. “He wants you to destroy each other up there.” 

“Then it’s true, Revan is alive,” Satele Shan said, almost to herself. 

“I’ve uploaded the files,” Theron announced. “Look at what you’ve been sent, both of you. All the evidence you need is there, including a list of the traitors.” 

“Good work, Theron,” Xhareen said. 

The call fell silent as both leaders reviewed the files. Darth Marr was the first to speak. 

“Interesting,” he said, then turned toward his crew. “Order the fleet to power down all weapons. Do it now.” 

The Republic ships soon did the same. “We will begin to detain the traitors in our ranks immediately,” Satele Shan said. “Then we need to decide our next step, Darth Marr.” 

“I suggest we meet planetside. Wrath, do you have somewhere in mind?” 

Xhareen sent them both coordinates for the basecamp. 

“Lana Beniko will meet you there, Darth Marr. She is to be granted immunity until you hear everything, and the same goes for Agent Shan,” Xhareen said. “We’ll join you as soon as possible. We have casualties to deal with on our end.” 

The holo shut off and Quinn came over and put his arm around her. He had discarded his jacket but his shirt was still splattered with Releah’s blood. 

“Thank you, Malavai, for saving the day.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save Releah, love,” he said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. 

“If we can save the Empire and the Republic from doing something very stupid here, he won’t have died in vain. He knew that. That’s all a Sith can ask for.”

 

~~~~~

When they got back to the camp, Vette was waiting for Xhareen outside the main building, using a crudely cushioned stick for a cane. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” she said, nearly falling into Xhareen’s arms. Xhareen could hold back her sobs no longer, and Vette began to cry. 

Quinn walked up to them, kissing Xhareen on the head first, then Vette on her right lek. “I’ll get things started with our guests,” he said softly. 

Xhareen came inside the building a few minutes later. Her face was slightly flushed, but she gave no other signs that anything was wrong. She walked up to the display panel as Satele Shan was speaking. Quinn fell in beside her. She stood still, stoic, and said nothing. 

Darth Marr had come with a small military detachment – and Xhareen’s friend Nica Leross. Satele Shan was accompanied by two soldiers and a slight, light-skinned Zabrak woman. When Gislaran saw her, she ran up to her and hugged her warmly. 

Shan revealed that the battlegroup that followed the Revanite fleet headed into Imperial Space. “Someone on board the ship, someone not loyal to the Revanites, sent a warning before the ships went into hyperdrive,” she said. 

“We are plotting all possible points of entry, but it won’t be easy to find them,” Darth Marr said. “We have security forces around all the major worlds, but my guess is they aren’t heading anywhere obvious.” 

“Go to the fourth moon of Yavin,” Scourge said, stepping up next to Xhareen and Quinn. “Vitiate kept something there that could hold the last spark of his essence. I thought it was just more of his boasting, but apparently, he wasn’t lying. The Revanites are trying to goad him, somehow, and it can’t be good.” 

“Who are you, Sith?” Marr demanded. “You are strong in the Force and you are not known to me, yet you are clearly no Jedi, either.” 

“I know the Revanites have a head start, but perhaps we should take a few moments to listen to Lord Scourge’s story,” Xhareen said, pointing to the back office. “I guarantee it will be most enlightening.”

 

~~~~~

Nica stopped Xhareen as the others were filing out. “We should talk,” she said. “There’s news from Dromund Kaas.” 

Xhareen went to shut the door so they’d have some privacy when Vette walked into the room.  

“There’s another strange email for you, my lord,” she said, careful to show respect while there were so many Sith and Jedi close by. “It’s from Broonmark this time.” 

Xhareen went to Lana’s mail station and called up the file. It was from Vowrawn.

 

_My Dearest Wrath,_

_I did not mean to mislead you earlier, but since you came with others I did not know and could not trust, I hope you do forgive my subterfuge._

_I suspected, as you have no doubt now discovered, that it was your friends the Hand that were following you. In some ways, to be expected but of no less concern, in truth. I ran into one of their members and was able to glean this information after an_ interesting _conversation._

_I discovered one other fact you should know. Perhaps in an effort to get you to return to Dromund Kaas and stay out of their way, they have arranged to have your Imperial marriage voided. As it was a military union, it can be annulled any time within the first year. I’m sure your beloved major doesn’t feel any less for you but I would urge you to wait to rectify this until you learn exactly what our friends are up to._

_Whatever you do, do not return to Dromund Kaas just yet. See this fight through unto its end._

_I have every confidence you will prevail. Do not worry about me, I am on my way to somewhere they cannot follow._

_Protect our home, Wrath. We are all depending on you._

_Vowrawn_

 

“Let me guess, Nica, you came to inform me I’m a single woman again,” Xhareen said, as she closed the file.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I used every resource Darth Marr has and still couldn’t determine who authorized it.”

Xhareen shook her head. “You won’t need to look any further than the list of Revanites. Look for one of the highest-ranking officers. My guess is, they’ve been interfering in all sorts of affairs, public and private. I’ll bet it’s someone who had strong ties to Nerida Broysc. Seems she keeps punishing us from beyond the grave.”

She walked back out into the main room, now teeming with activity as everyone prepared to leave.

The Zabrak woman – Xhareen had not learned her name, since she had missed all the introductions – came up to her.

“My name is Dhavana Freemoon. I know you’ve been working closely with Gislaran. I was hoping we could have some time to speak, but I see that won’t be likely now,” she said.

There was something calming, musical, about her voice that soothed Xhareen’s frayed nerves.

“You’re the one they named Barsen’thor,” she said.

“And you are the Emperor’s Wrath. Believe it or not, we have more in common than anyone might think.”

“I hope this isn’t out of place, and I can’t guarantee I’ll be the most sparkling host, but you’re welcome to make the trip to Yavin on board my ship, Dhavana,” Xhareen said.

“I’d be happy to. I will inform Master Shan and be ready presently.”

Xhareen scanned the room for any sign of Quinn. He was talking to Shae Vizla, but when he saw Xhareen, he made his way toward her.

She backed into the room and when Quinn entered he shut the door and took her into his arms. They said nothing for several moments.

Xhareen was the first to pull away. “Darling, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Wait, I was coming to inform you that I called the team back on Tatooine and had them join us. And since we are now in an official state of truce and we’ll be in Imperial space, I hope it wasn’t out of line that I contacted Jaesa as well.”

“No, that was good thinking, thank you.”

He beamed. “I hope it was also good thinking that I said it was on your orders. I thought it might help smooth things between you. Also, Kayda is coming as well. I thought we should have more medics after …”

“That’s fine. But I’m afraid I have bad news.”

She went to the mail terminal and opened Vowrawn’s letter and stepped aside as Quinn read it.

He read the file, then slumped down in the chair next to her.

“Can this day get any worse?” he said. “Scratch that. I don’t want to be tempting fate any more than I already have.”

“Don’t worry, Malavai. This changes nothing. I am still your wife and you are my husband. No one can take that from us.

“We will defeat the Revanites, and we will uncover whatever the Hand is up to, and we will have a fabulous wedding that will be the toast of all Dromund Kaas.”

He nodded, but Xhareen could see the stress on his face, as though he had aged a dozen years in one minute. She took his hands in hers.

“Let’s head to the Covenant and prep for the flight. It’s three days, and though we’ll be having guests on board, we’ll find time to be alone,” she said.

 

 


	81. Look At Us

**_Eighteen months later_ **

_Everyone in the Empire believes our woes began with Ziost. When, they have been told, some unknown alien power siphoned the life from an entire planet. I know for a fact, but never divulged it of course, that the Dark Council briefly entertained the idea of blaming Ziost's destruction on the Jedi, but didn't want to give their mortal enemy so much credit._

_Nor could they admit the Emperor was behind it. So they concocted the story of an outside threat. How could they have known that, so soon after, their great lie would come true?_

_No, our woes really began on the Yavin moon, when the defeat of Revan unleashed the sleeping entity we had come to know as Emperor Vitiate. Our Immortal Emperor, our protector, our absentee landlord, our ultimate downfall._

_I will never forget the chill, the horror coursing through my veins, as Vitiate threatened to extinguish all life in the galaxy while forcing my wife, his Wrath, to watch before killing her. She brushed off the threat, defiant as always._

_If only I had known on that day how little time we had left together._

 

**_\-- from Quinn’s journals in exile_ **

 

**_On the 4 th moon of Yavin_ **

**DAY ONE**

Xhareen tried hard to forget that, for every beautiful planet she’d been on lately, she’d had to suffer the death of a friend. First Rathari on Lehon. Then Releah on Rishi.

She felt gnawed at and chewed upon that she found the Yavin moon so exquisite. The jungle gave way to open spaces draped in more shades of green than even her visor could process. The air, not as stifling as the dense jungle might predict, carried a distinctive spicy fragrance with every light breeze.

Every few meters, something bright and colorful jumped out of a bush or from behind a rock, contemplated its annoyer, then scuttled away completely unafraid. The wildlife was so unaccustomed to sentient presence, Xhareen thought it would be cruel to hunt here.

Not that there weren’t things here that wanted to hunt her. She’d been warned by Lana that the Massassi, the ancestors of all Sith, had been experimented on and turned into frightful beasts with no qualms about eating any meat-bearing creature, even Pureblood Sith. There was also a nagging presence that she and Lana both felt but could not describe.

Xhareen ordered HK to monitor Vette and Kayda’s whereabouts at all times and accompany whichever one he assessed to be in the greatest danger.

“Observation: Master, we are all in great danger here,” he replied.

Obvious or not, it gave her pause as she stepped around a palm plant, its multi-colored fronds taller than Broonmark. Even he stayed close to the camp Xhareen had set up for her team not far from the command center where even now, Imperial and Republic engineers worked side by side installing the computer systems necessary for the battle to come.

The staging area covered a vast plateau well to the east of where the Revanites were suspected to be holed up, in the colossal Temple the Emperor himself had ordered built here. Darth Marr provided plans, formerly classified and accessible only by Dark Council members, of the temple area. The building itself would take up nearly a full square block in the heart of Kaas City; it was the single largest, non-spaceport structure in all Imperial space. It would dwarf the Republic Senate building three or four times over. It was ringed by a courtyard that could easily house the suspected 4,000 Revanites who had eluded capture.

No one could say whether the plans were still accurate; no one had dared question the Emperor about it when he was still present. Attempts to view the area via satellite were unsuccessful, due to signal jammers.

The staging grounds sat on a vast, semi-permanent grouping of meadows, edged by the ever-present jungle. There was enough room to set up a command center, a staging area, a landing zone and about 80 percent of the campground space needed. Teams of soldiers from both factions were clearing more jungle hours after Xhareen and her team landed.

Several fights broke out over the process, however: Imperial troops wanted squared-off areas, whereas the Republic troops favored more rounded clearings. Neither minded using explosives to clear out large trees or hillocks to preserve their favored aesthetic.

Technical advisors, mostly scientists, from both factions pleaded to have the clearings at least acknowledge the topographic features. It would help the area recover once the operation was done, they argued. The military forces wanted to set up camps as quickly as possible. Fortunately, the scientists prevailed, creating a setting that could easily be called pleasant, almost park-like, but large enough for campsites to hold about 800 Republic forces, 600 Imperials and the two dozen or so advisors.

The command leaders, however, took advantage of an area behind the command center itself that had once been a structure almost as impressive as the Emperor’s main temple. Perhaps some stronghold for soldiers, or adherents? No one knew. Bits of walls and corners remained and served as the basis for temporary structures throughout the camps.  

Xhareen wanted everyone who had come here with her to stay together, so she commandeered an area southeast of the main command center. A large portion of wall offered some privacy from the comings and goings at the command center. After a bit of brush and fauna clearing, bolstered by sonic deterrents, the area was a pleasant place to camp. Quinn remarked how much it looked like an estate garden and spent his first hour on the ground capturing images of the area.

Yet for all the pops of color that dotted the staging areas, from above, the jungle itself was painted in muted tones of green. Somber. Inoffensive. Deceptive. Deadly. All fueled by the Dark Side of the Force. The Yavin planet, a gas giant, loomed overhead everywhere they went.

The Force sensitives reacted to this energy in different ways. Scourge refused to come down to the planet, remaining instead on Satele Shan’s flagship. “It’s not the Dark Side,” he insisted. “The place reeks of Vitiate.”

Most of the other Sith found it invigorating, at first, but most of them also slept fitfully their first time on the ground.

The Jedi were much more mixed in their response. Master Shan noted she felt like she was being watched. Gislaran said only she understood what Scourge meant. Dhavana, on the other hand, called the planet stimulating, and proceeded to engage Myroli in a four-hour chat about ancient artifacts as they set up tents.

The Barsen’thor seemed intrigued by Xhareen and her little band and asked if she could stay with them. Xhareen was more than happy, although Lana took a bit to warm up to her.

“I’ve made it clear to Master Shan that I’m not a combatant and I’m not here to convert Sith, either. She might not be able to publicly support that, but I feel that she does privately,” Dhavana told Xhareen as Lana stood politely and silently beside her.

“I’m glad for your observations, Dhavana. We Sith may be too close to things here on this world,” Xhareen said.

“It’s an interesting place,” Dhavana said. “What you call the ‘Dark Side’ here is nothing like the darkness I’ve encountered in the fallen masters I helped to heal.”

“That sounds like an amazing story for another time,” Lana said, her interest piqued.

“I’m hoping we get that time, Lord Beniko.”

At that, Lana laughed. “Please, just call me Lana. I’m not one for titles.”

~~~~~

Xhareen fidgeted on the bench next to Quinn, while Darth Marr and Grandmaster Shan argued about yet another point of order. It was clear, at least to Xhareen, that Satele Shan had the upper hand and could, more so than any other being who hoped to survive the encounter, get to every one of Marr’s buttons and push them.

They had agreed to a truce, and to organize as an official coalition, but other than staking out camps and landing zones, and deciding where the food lines would be, they could agree on little else.

She waited until they were each nearly exhausted in both arguing points and stamina and stood up, then used the Force to jump up on the stone table that had, in eons past, been a grand Sith altar.

“Now that I have your attention,” she said, as everyone in the clearing fell silent.

“We must stop this bickering and think about the enemy instead. We cannot blame either the Empire or the Republic for this mess. Although all are to blame, it’s irrelevant and counterproductive.

“We must immediately start focusing on the intel that Lana Beniko and Theron Shan have gathered while you stood here squabbling. We need to set up common secure comm channels and we need to see to the feasibility of sending out recon teams. We know there are Revanites and Massassi and Maker knows who or what else all bent on killing us before we get to Revan. We know the Emperor is here, in one form or another, as well.

“We need to focus on that. We have live bodies, we assign them according to strengths. There’s no need for absolute balance. Master Shan, we have better maps and more hardware on site, so we take lead on recon and surveillance. Darth Marr, if the Republic has a specialty that will keep us all alive, they take lead on that.”

Satele Shan bowed her head briefly, then spoke, her voice raspy: “You are of course correct, Lord Wrath. I would offer that I have more troops overall, and more heavy troops at that. We should consider mixed faction teams. You send your recon specialists, we will back you up with our big guns.”

Xhareen turned to Darth Marr, her hands on her hips like a stern schoolmarm.

“Well?”

“Agreed. Though we route all communications through the mainframe here,” Marr said.

“I would ask that the comm station be monitored by equal numbers from each side,” Shan said.

“That sounds fair enough,” Marr replied.

“Good,” Xhareen said. “Let’s get to work.”

She jumped down from the table and retook her seat as those assembled began to talk among themselves. Quinn reached his hand over and placed it on her thigh and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Please marry me again at your earliest convenience,” he whispered in her ear.

~~~~~

In addition to the Rishi complement, Jaesa and Kayda joined them from Dromund Kaas, and Zavaa brought a group from Tatooine, including Ashara and some of Vette’s Twi’lek friends. Zavaa declared she and Vector would stay aboard her ship, in orbit with the Imperial fleet. Andronikos, not willing to run across any ghost from his past, decided he would stay with them unless absolutely necessary.

Xhareen boarded Zavaa’s ship before heading to the surface to bring Ashara the news of Releah’s death.

“He’s one with the Force, whether you Sith believe it or not,” was all she said in response.

His body was in stasis on one of Quinn’s troop ships, in a kolto tank. Xhareen could not bear to see him like that, since it reminded her too much of sitting with Quinn after his betrayal on board the Yaroe Star.

“I can arrange to have him buried on Korriban, unless you …” Xhareen began.

“I have no claim on his empty shell. Do with it as you wish.” She walked out of the room, but Xhareen ran after her.

“As he lay dying, he told me to tell you how awful it was to love him. I said I could not, since it had never been that way. I saw it on Ilum, Ashara. He loved you, even if he couldn’t figure out a way for the two of you to be together.”

Ashara stopped but did not turn. “Don’t you think it’s stupid, this rift between us? Jedi and Sith? We have more in common with each other than we do with non-Force users sometimes. I mean, the Jedi are wrong about denying emotions and attachments, and the Sith are wrong to be so cruel, but we’ve spent millennia fighting, splitting up the galaxy, making people hate us enough to start all new wars …” She began to sob and covered her face.

Xhareen walked up to her and put her arms out and was surprised when Ashara took her up on the offer of a hug. Comfort offered a way to bridge many gaps between people even when larger questions – like Jedi vs. Sith – could not be answered.

They stood silent for a few moments in an embrace of comrades, not enemies or rivals.

“Releah would want you to make your own path, Ashara. He was an exile from his people, too. He understood you better than he let on, I’m sure.”

Ashara pulled away slightly, wiping her moist eyes. “I want to fight. With you, Xhareen, and your people, your friends. Not with the Sith or the Jedi or the Republic or the Empire, but with you. Yes, I want revenge, but it’s the right thing to do, too.”

“You’re welcome by my side any time,” Xhareen said. “Now, I could be wrong, but it’s late at night back on Dromund Kaas and I actually feel tired.”

“I’m coming to the surface with you,” Ashara said.

“I suggest you take one of the comfortable bedrolls from the storage bay. You can bunk in one of the tents Vette and the others are setting up and get some sleep. I’m going to round everyone up and then do the same.”

~~~~~

**DAY 2**

Ashara had gravitated toward Vette and her friends back on Tatooine and she remained close to them now. As Xhareen and Quinn entered the small clearing after a few fitful hours of sleep, Vette looked up from the computer panel she was linking to a portable power supply and the two of them waved. Ashara almost smiled.

The signal jammer originating from somewhere deep within the jungle and controlled by the Revanites made satellite surveillance moot – until Theron worked out a way to trace signal overlap and begin to work out where the jammers were located.

“Vette and her friends helped, but they wouldn’t tell me quite how they were able to process so much data,” Theron said as he punched in the last of the codes he needed on his datapad. “It might not help, but we’ll know something.”

Quinn was more worried about how the jammers got here. “I doubt the Revanites had time to assemble them, unless they’ve had a contingent here for some time.”

“This hasn’t left this group, Major, but we suspect there’s a group of Imperial Guards here, too,” Theron said. “Probably holed up in one of the temples. It would make sense, given what Scourge thinks is supposed to happen.”

“Do you think they’ve been driving the Revanites all along?” Quinn asked.

“It’s possible,” Lana replied. “Surely Vitiate knew Revan wanted revenge, meaning he wanted to kill him, and Revan figured out to do that, he’d have to lure him back into physical form.”

The thought of Imperial Guards involved in this mess troubled Xhareen. “How do we know there are Guards here?”

“We got a message from an inside source,” Theron said. “Image was scrambled but I believe it to be legit.”

“It wasn’t a Rodian, was it?” Vette asked.

“No, looked more like a statue. Why would it be a Rodian?” Theron seemed confused.

“No reason,” Vette said, turning back to the wires and circuits in front of her.

Quinn took her aside when she was done with Lana and Theron. “Col. Ovech is here, coordinating the Imperial troops from his ship. He’s asked me to take my soldiers and work directly with two companies from the Republic. We’re to assemble in the main staging area.”

“I’ll miss you, but go on. Be brilliant, my love,” she said.

He kissed her on her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

Quinn nearly skipped away through the clearing. Xhareen was proud and relieved to see him so happy to be back at soldiering. Despite the tragedy on Rishi, his well-trained troops and his on-the-spot thinking had saved the day.

Hopefully they’d be able to do the same thing here.

~~~~~

It was hard to tell night from day on the moon’s surface, given the Yavin gas giant’s constant interference and both bodies’ position to the Yavin star. Since they arrived here, the sky had never changed from a tepid twilight.

One item the faction leaders did agree on was to use Galactic Standard Time, used by shipping pilots, for mission planning and execution purposes. At least while communicating with each other.

Theron said no when the senior Republic military commander, Col. Drummond, asked him to set up a secure interface that would allow individual troopers to track the time according to the Coruscant standard.

“It’s the same day,” he grumbled to Xhareen back in her camp, several hours later. “Our day, your day … same damn thing. It shouldn’t matter …”

He slapped the console in front of him. It lit up and a figure appeared on the holo.

“Hey! Our mysterious source.” Theron’s face brightened with amusement, then his eyes widened.  “So definitely _not_ a Rodian.”

Xhareen stepped forward into view. The blurry image of a statue flickered, and resolved into a familiar, oversized form, hunkered down behind a large plant.

“General Hesker,” she whispered. “So it’s true. The Imperial Guard are involved.”

“My lord, it is not what you think. There are but a few squads of my men here. I came to try to talk some sense into them but …”

The camera angle pulled back some, and they could both see the General was severely wounded.

“I’m afraid I haven’t got long. Some bloody creature attacked me before I could reach them. I’m down to my last medpac and I can no longer keep the wound closed. I can give you the coordinates of the temple the wayward guards are using.”

“General, you will give us your coordinates and we will come and save you. That’s an order,” Xhareen said. She wasn’t about to lose another friend to this fight.

“I’ll … I’ll try, my lord, but I’m sending over both sets of coordinates just to be safe.”

“You hang on. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

The coordinates pointed to a valley beyond a vast stretch of dense, foreboding forest, past the flatlands overshadowed by the plateau where the staging grounds were located.

“Take speeders and approach from due east first, then veer north once you’re in the valley. That’s your best shot at staying out of the guards’ sights,” Hesker instructed between gasps.

Xhareen looked around the camp, crying out with relief when she saw Malavai and his sister getting off of two speeders at the small landing zone Broonmark and HK had cleared.

She ran over to them and breathlessly ordered them to gather as many medpacs as they could in a minute or less. They ran to the supply crates, where Vette popped up, startled by their frenzied grabbing of medical supplies.

Xhareen saw her and shouted, “Vette, you too. Grab what you can and get over here.”

 Quinn and his sister returned and hopped onto their speeders. Xhareen grabbed a seat behind Vette on another one.

“Theron, lead us to the general.”

“ _Careful_ ,” Xhareen thought she heard an unknown voice say, but wrote it off as the breeze.

~~~~~

When they got to Hesker, he was a frightening shade of gray. Malavai and Kayda worked on him while Vette assisted. When Kayda assured her he would survive, Xhareen ordered her to get him back to the med tent -- “the one on our side” – and do whatever it took to keep him alive.

Vette helped Malavai strap the hulking general, who was only barely conscious at this point, to Kayda so she could take him back to the camp. They all watched as she navigated through the path they’d cleared to get here until she disappeared.

“We need to reconnoiter, figure out what we’re facing here,” Xhareen said.

“Since your people took down the signal jammer and I can confirm the location, I can use my implants to task your Imperial satellite to give us a better look,” Theron said.

Quinn gave him a harsh look, but Xhareen waved her hand, so he just commented, “Those are some interesting implants, Agent Shan.”

“Don’t worry, I was told my access would be revoked the second we’re done here. Not sure I want to slice directly into any Imperial hardware anyway.”

“Gentlemen,” Xhareen said after clearing her throat, “whether you are Force sensitive or not, this planet will unsettle your nerves. I suggest you buck up and keep on track.”

“Yeah, before you get on _her_ nerves,” Vette chimed in.

“Trust me, Agent Shan. You _do not_ want that,” Quinn said.

The two men were now smiling.

“If I must be the butt of a joke to keep you on an even plane, I will be,” Xhareen said. “Can we go now?”

They approached the small structure the Guard were using as a base. It offered a clear line of sight to the Great Temple. There was also a well-worn, partially paved path meandering through four kliks of jungle connecting the two structures.

A small courtyard surrounded the smaller temple, but it was empty.

“OK, sensors indicate there are eight life forms in the antechamber,” Theron said. “Some have more life in them than others. Must have suffered some sort of attack.”

“What about the others?” Xhareen asked.

“What others? I’m only getting readings from inside the temple.”

It was the same voice from earlier. “ _Welcome_ ,” it said. “ _Your presence is needed here_.”

Or maybe they … it was hard to tell whether the voice was male, female or even one voice. It was as though many voices, in perfect unison, perfect tone, called to her. Xhareen felt overwhelmed by the presence, like she was tapping into the heart of the moon.

“Are you alright?” Quinn asked, his hand behind her shoulder to keep her balanced.

Then she heard many voices, not humanoid, not animal. Communicating rapidly in images and thoughts struggling to be interpreted by her brain. Not the being … many beings.

She took a deep breath as Quinn reached out his other hand to steady her. She let him, drawing strength from his love and concern.

“I will be, thank you, darling.”

He kissed her cheek. “I will let go of you when I am sure you are.”

“Theron, there are more beings here than your scanners are recording. Can you broaden your search somehow?” she asked. Maybe he could help her figure out just who was trying to contact her.

“Wow!” he exclaimed a little too loudly several minutes later.

“Sorry,” he followed quickly, this time in a whisper. “These creatures are massive. Maybe sentient, maybe not. Unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. Must be your mysterious Massassi Lana kept going on about.”

“Are they close?”

“Not really. They’re about two kliks south of here in the valley. Reads like a whole village of them.”

“Let’s approach the building, see what we can see,” Xhareen said. She touched Quinn’s hand. “I’m fine now, really.”

“Then let’s go, my lord. We’re ready,” he said.

 

As they got closer, Theron was able to get a thermal image showing only three humanoids left standing; the rest were prone on the floor and in the 10 minutes or so it had taken for them to approach, three had died.

The bodies had visible gashes not unlike what Hesker had suffered.

“It must have been the Massassi,” Quinn whispered.

“You’re sure they’re not here anymore, right?” Vette asked.

“Positive. I can still read them back in the village. No movement out of there since I first found them,” Theron said.

“Good. Vette, deploy the listening probe,” Xhareen said.

A small, shimmering green microdroid hovered above Vette’s head as she manipulated a control panel and sent it toward the temple opening. It was a gift from the stash of gear Lana had amassed on Rishi and though it didn’t look like any native insects here on the moon, Xhareen declared their enemies would probably not know the difference.

They all held their breath until the bug found a secure spot on a wall near where the three standing forms were. One of them was talking, rambling on like a zealot, not at all like a Revanite.

“They’re ruining everything! They don’t see it. I see it. We see it. But they don’t see. They don’t even have eyes …”

“Do you think they mean me?” Xhareen whispered.

Before anyone could answer, the voice – older, male, ragged with use and speaking in one of Ziost’s more predominant accents – continued, “We’re all that’s left. We must flush the others from this place. Only then can we feed the starving Emperor and grant him sustenance.”

“But sir,” another voice, female, interrupted. “The Wrath is here. Her death alone could wake him …”

“We don’t want to just wake him, you fool,” the first voice said. “We have our orders. Help set him free. Then he will honor us, by setting us free. Are you with us, or are you with the unbelievers, Lieutenant?”

“We have to go,” Xhareen said, before sprinting off toward the clearing. “Now!”

The others followed. Xhareen drew her lightsabers and the others had their blasters at the ready.

They charged into the anteroom, Xhareen and Vette heading to the right around the large carved stone right inside the entrance, Theron and Quinn heading left.

The room was larger than she had anticipated, but the bodies, alive, dead and otherwise, were only a few meters from them now. All of them wore the bright red uniforms of the Imperial Guard, although the three left standing had removed their signature helmets. Behind them, the stone room of the temple was draped in moss and creeping plant life. An open roof let light in from above, aided by multiple holes in the stone walls.

If, as Darth Marr had speculated, the Emperor had ordered the construction of these buildings, it had been many centuries in the past. His servants had done little to keep this building in working order. Xhareen wondered if the main temple had suffered the same treatment.

“Identify yourselves, now!” Xhareen shouted.

“Commandant Iven, Imperial Guard. We serve the Emperor, as do you, Lord Wrath. We’ve been waiting for you.”

It looked more like they were waiting for dinner, like ravenous circus animals. She felt like they were salivating at her arrival and it was not at all pleasant.

“Explain yourselves,” Xhareen demanded. “Why are you here?”

“We are the True Imperial Guard. We’re here to serve. We must cleanse the temple of the Revanites. They must stay outside. We must prepare the Emperor’s feast.”

“What does that even mean?” she asked, softening her tone. She could hear the strain in his voice, the near loss of control. The moon must be exerting a strong influence on him; perhaps he, too, had some tie to the Emperor like she did. Maybe more so, since she no longer felt like the Emperor’s property.

“All will be revealed. You must aid us. Just let us sacrifice you in his name … food for the Emperor!”

Xhareen drew her lightsabers. She heard the others behind her drawing their weapons, too. In their weakened state, she could have easily dispatched all three of the remaining guards on her own. She hoped the show of strength would force them to stand down.

“You can’t stop it! We won’t let you!” Iven said, jumping forward to attack.

Injured or not, he was a formidable fighter. The other two fell quickly to blaster fire, but no one dared risk shooting at Iven while Xhareen had him engaged. After a few rounds, she managed a blow that disabled his weapon, and she Force pushed him into the wall.

When he came to, he was unarmed, facing two lightsabers and four blasters. He offered no more resistance.

“We are food,” he gasped. “All life was born to be his food.”

He passed out just as a squad of Imperial shocktroops entered the temple, weapons drawn. Xhareen ordered them to bind him and take him back to the command center without harming him.

Her holo beeped and Darth Marr appeared. Xhareen filled him in on what had happened.

“We will want to interrogate him. Perhaps he knows more than he let on.”

“He’s in a fragile state, Darth Marr. Agitated. He was attacked by the Massassi, although not as gravely as the others. And he keeps rambling about some ritual to feed the Emperor.”

Darth Marr sighed – a sound made frightful when filtered through his mask. “It is worse than I feared. Come back to the command center, Lord Wrath. We must speak.”

Quinn knelt by one of the fallen guards, hanging onto life. He held her trembling hand as she recited the pledge all guards take upon acceptance into the elite unit. “… I will defend the Emperor with my dying breath,” she repeated, over and over.

“There’s nothing I can do for her,” he whispered to Xhareen. “I shot her.”

She knelt next to him for a few moments, until the woman’s eyes fluttered, and she exhaled her last, loyal breath.

“As a child, I idolized the guard,” Quinn said. “To serve the Emperor as they did was the greatest honor a non-Sith could achieve. Now, look at them.”

He punched the ground with his fist.

“Look at us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Though this will generally follow the in-game storyline, there will be a significant divergence from game canon around the events on Corellia. Because betrayal isn't the only thing that can wreck a good relationship. Will involve other PCs, NPCs and some original characters. There will be some violence, but no gore or torture. Will include descriptions of consensual sex. Also, the name of Xhareen's Fury-class interceptor is the Covenant, named for her non-canon homeworld.
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